It has not been my best week.
Too many anxiety-provoking meetings, too much yelling at a child who is trying my patience, too many appliances falling apart around my house.
I am tired and needy.
I am here for the same reason that I like to keep Little One in “big church” as much as I can—because being in this room matters.
Messy lives rubbing up against one another, voices joined in hope and celebration. There is power in loving Jesus together.
In another season of life, in another head-space, I might hear challenge in the same words.
But today, all I hear is love.
Having loved his own who were in the world, he loved them to the end.
A humble servant, stooping to wash the feet of the faithful and the unfaithful alike.
I love you.
A body broken, blood spilled, a kernel of wheat falling to the ground to die in order that many may live. That I may live.
I love you.
A place prepared where all will be new. No more striving and struggling. No more uncertainty about tomorrow.
A place that needs no temple because he is the temple.
A place that needs no sun because he shines so radiantly.
I love you. I love you.
I’ve heard it all before. The very same words.
One thousand times, at least.
And still it feels new. Like water to my desperately thirsty soul.
I cannot even try to wrap my mind around it tonight.
I just drink it in, unfolding my arms and letting it splash into my face.
Into my heart.
Tonight the word is simple.
Maybe it’s a word for you too.
You are loved.
Loved to the end.
The end of this day. The end of your life. The end of eternity.
Friend, you are so, so loved.