We often don’t know what the love of God really looks like, because we are looking to each other as examples of what love means. And those examples are often steeped in human pain, repression and trauma.
The love of God doesn’t look like the love of a disappointed parent. The love of God is not the love of an abusive spouse. The love of God is not a codependent friendship. It is not the love you feel for your dog. It is not the love of a nation. It is not spiteful or selfish or conditional.
It does not falter at your skin tone, your tattoos, the way you speak, your choice of lover. It does not ask loaded questions, it does not roll it’s eyes.
We see nothing like it, except the glimpses we can catch, in a moment of mutual understanding, a kind smile, an electric connection between strangers, the experience of being lovingly known, the feeling of singing together.
And that is but a candle to the sun of God’s love that surrounds us at all times.
In our wounded world there is no comparison, the only way to understand is it faith. To do as we are called to do, to see others as God does, we must challenge ourselves to love deeper than the love we’ve been given.