Every mom who prays for her children,
Every dad who grieves the loss of his son,
Every child who's parent is taken,
has a taste of agonizing love.
Love constrains us,
love thrills us,
it steadies us,
and it confounds us.
But it never fails
it's always patient
forgiving and kind.
"Not the love I've experienced!"
you might exclaim.
But then,
you've never experienced
the agonizing love
of Christ.
I mean,
once you realize how dearly loved you are,
and how much agony Christ endured
for you,
something happens.
You love differently.
The change is incremental.
Not all at once.
I mean there's a massive change
at first,
but then like yeast
it grows,
or it doesn't.
Love can choose not to grow.
We can receive great love
and let the lies of the world,
the enemy
or self-loathing
rob us joy
or stunt our growth.
But when we face Christ,
and the Father of all things,
when we are filled with the Spirit,
we will love like he loves.
We will endure and feel the sorrows and joys of others,
we will be transformed
into one with agonizing love.
Perhaps this seems unpleasant.?
But if you were stuck in a fire,
would you want someone to rescue you?
Would you do the same for another,
living a life of gratitude?
This is our gift.
The love given to us is not
a sunny day kind of love.
It's not for when your hair turned out nice
and you're wearing you favorite jeans.
It's not the kind of love
that catches you doing something nice,
and loves you more.
It's the kind of love
that suffers with us in our sorrow.
Rejoices with us in our victories,
loves us
at our most unlovable moments (and seasons).
This is the love we receive.
This is the love that kept Christ on the cross,
until it was finished.
This love brought him back from the grave,
and this love
intercedes for my victory.
This is agonizing love,
and it's powerful
and precious
and it's our gift.
Thank you,
thank you,
thank you,
oh God our Father,
Lord of heaven and earth,
Spirit of God.
May we love with this passion,
and may we cherish this love
until you return or call us home.
