Perfect Love

There is a waft of fresh air. A flood of warmth and light spreads through the window. The phone vibrates. It’s Sunday morning! A mixture of laziness and fatigue kicks in. Boy, oh boy. Has it been a tough week! Life has thrown in demand and after demand: from family to school, to the workplace, and friends…As if that’s not enough, more demands await in church! Nobody alerted this young zealous lad that even serving God would one day appear to be such a burden. He shuts his eyes and pretends it’s all but reality. He forms and indulges in his fantasies just to escape it all.

The room’s a mess: clothes and books lie all over the bed, floor, and table. It’s been like this for a while now that he's become accustomed to it. Yet he is known by everyone as the neat and organized perfectionist. Perhaps the room is just a reflection of what's going on inside. A tempest of demands is roaring within and he lacks the capacity to deal with it. There’s no one to talk to...or so it seems. Disillusionment and discouragement carry the day. Yet seated at the base of it all is downright fear.

Fear of rejection. Fear of being told he is not good enough: not good enough to be accepted by others. Fear of failure. Fear of giving it everything your best shot but lacking the capacity to deliver. Fear of transition. Fear of having to deal with major changes that could alter the future. He lays bound and broken: in self-doubt and self-loathing. He covers himself and blocks it all from his thinking. He turns to anything else that can make him feel good: anything that can make the pain go away. Men don’t cry so this is the best he can do. Across the room lies his Bible. Now gathering dust it lies in wait. Yet behind it, the Spirit behind the author is grieving. The Spirit is hoping, and waiting. The Spirit is waiting to cast our fear with perfect love: perfect acceptance and affirmation. He needs to know that he matters. He needs to know that he is valued. He needs to know that before he can do anything. The Spirit behind the author is prodding his heart to remember the days of his youth: born and bred in a Christian family; trusting God and seeing amazing impossibilities become realities. He can feel the conviction to awaken and arise. To cast his burdens. To be real in prayer. To talk to the Father and telling Him everything He thinks and feels. Yet for now, he sleeps. The urge keeps getting stronger and the question keeps getting louder as his faith is tested, "Son will you turn to me?"

Ever had so much to give but no one to share it with? Let me rephrase that. Ever been willing to share something you highly value, something that cost you time and resources to acquire, with people who continually despise it? Take a pause and let that feeling sink in. Now, what would you do?

1st Corinthians 13:7

(International Standard Version)

She (love) bears up under everything; believes the best in all; there is no limit to her hope, and never will she fall. Expensively we have been purchased. Highly we have been valued. May our eyes be opened. May our hearts melt in awe and surrender to His love: in surrender to Him.