He Loves Me Too

Four years ago, after eight long and thankless hours of soul-sucking work, I left my office to enter the real Atlanta dream, traffic. Keys to success, auto pilot. Let your body do what your mind cannot handle. So there I sat physically driving and emotionally, disconnecting, when I got a phone call from one of my oldest and dearest lifelong best friends! Joy in the Pain.

She was calling me with her brand spanking new and amazing fiancé! As I sat lifeless in traffic the happy couple detailed getting engaged in Montenegro and then flying to Rome to celebrate. I had no words. After a few moments of silence, I gave my obligatory congratulations.  When the fanfare passed my dear, sweet and amazing friends asked, “How are you?”

Drenched in sarcasm, my response, “God Loves Me Too.”

He loves me too.

Intellectually I ascent that this is true, God does in fact love me.  “Jesus loves me this I know, for the Bible tells me so.”

Emotionally, different story. Emotionally, I am a hidden basket case who carefully controls her expectations by planning for every disaster situation. I never get excited because excitement means that the inevitable failure and rejection will only hurt more and leave me exposed and weak. Weakness is not an option. Letting your guard down is a fool’s game, and only fools fall in love.

My guard is never let down, I never get excited, and I am never blindsided by things not working out. I am ready. When I think about love, life and intimacy, I feel like Vivian in the best movie ever made about a prostitute, Pretty Woman!

Kit: Maybe you guys could, like, um… you know, get a house together, and like, buy some diamonds, and a horse- I don’t know. Anyway it could work! It happens!

Vivian: When does it happen, Kit? I just wanna know who it works out for. You know give me one example of somebody we know that it happened for.

Kit: Name someone? You want me to name someone?

Vivian: Yeah, you know a person that it worked for.

Kit: The pressure of a name… Cinder-f-ing-rella!

Everlasting love, only works out in fairy tales about women with small feet that fit in glass slippers.

The thing is I cannot shake the truth that God loves me too. The Bible does actually tell me so. 

“Because of his great love for us, God, who is rich in mercy, made us alive with Christ even when we were dead in transgressions…” (Eph 2:4-5). “In this is love, not that we have loved God but that he loved us and sent his Son to be the propitiation for our sins”  (1 John 4:10).

A dear sweet friend once asked me how I would live life differently if I truly BELIEVED that God loved me. He loves me. Yes, he loves the world (John 3:16), but he also loves lil ole emotionally disconnected me. He loves me.

If God truly loves me, He isn’t embarrassed when I awkwardly say too much to strangers. He doesn’t think my obsessive compulsion to clean and organize is too much. He isn’t shocked by the fact that I find safety in structure and plans. My heavenly Father isn’t confused or befuddled by my weird fears of emotional intimacy or my neurotic need to rearrange my furniture weekly. His goodness and sovereignty are not somehow limited by my past baggage and present fears. He just keeps on loving me, and as I slowly and stubbornly learn to trust in His love, “there is no fear, because perfect love casts out fear” (1 John 4:18).

So, who does it work out for?

Brittany-freakin-rella
And all those who love the King! (Romans 8:28).