"Resolved, to examine carefully and constantly what that one thing in me is that causes me in the least to doubt the love of God; and so direct all my forces against it."
Learning from Edwards, let us take serious thought and mental effort to grow in our understanding of God's love toward us. Understanding the love of God is an infinite pursuit--we will never fully get there. But, surely, we can (by God's grace) grow in our knowledge of it.
God tells us what His love is like. It is free, vast, unconditional, unmeasurable, sacrificial, consistent, boundless, eternal...we could go on forever (and we will...).
Doubting God's love is doubting the very character of God. What we see from Scripture is that God loves to love. God is love!
When I doubt God's love, I doubt God's word. I'll say to myself, 'I just don't feel like God loves me because...fill-in-the-blank.' The truth would be to say, 'I don't like the way God is loving me right now!' And that is my problem, not God's.
So why do I so often question whether God really loves me? Unbelief.
God is not a man that He should act, think, or love like one. Human love fails; God's love for me is eternal and unchanging...because He says it is.
We never did anything to 'catch God's eye,' to warrant His love, to woo His affections, so why do we think that God stops loving us when we mess up or are just plain unlovable? It's actually pretty arrogant and prideful to think that God's love for us changes based on how we 'perform'--that would imply that we were ever deserving of God's love (and we're not!).
Behold the amazing love of God--He loved us when we were unlovable and He will continue to love His children for all eternity. Bask in the love of God and drink freely at the never-depleting pool of His grace!
"My Song is Love Unknown" by Samuel Crossman
My song is love unknown, my Savior's love to me
Love to the loveless shown, that they might lovely be
Oh, who am I that for my sake,
Oh, who am I that for my sake,
My Lord should take frail flesh and die?
He came from heaven's throne salvation to bestow
But they refused and none the longed-for Christ would know
This is my friend, my friend indeed,
This is my friend, my friend indeed,
Who at my need, His life did spend.
Sometimes they crowd His way and His sweet praises sing
Resounding all the day, hosannas to their King
Then, "Crucify!" is all their breath,
Then, "Crucify!" is all their breath,
And for His death they thirst and cry.
Why, what has my Lord done to cause this rage and spite
He made the lame to run, and gave the blind their sight
What injuries, yet these are why,
What injuries, yet these are why,
The Lord Most High so cruelly dies.
With angry shouts they have my dear Lord done away
A murderer they save, the Prince of Life they slay
Yet willingly, He bears the shame,
Yet willingly, He bears the shame,
That through His name all might be free.
Here might I stay and sing of Him my soul adores
Never was love, dear King, never was grief like Yours
This is my friend in whose sweet praise,
This is my friend in whose sweet praise,
I, all my days would gladly spend.
Love to the loveless shown, that they might lovely be
Oh, who am I that for my sake,
Oh, who am I that for my sake,
My Lord should take frail flesh and die?
He came from heaven's throne salvation to bestow
But they refused and none the longed-for Christ would know
This is my friend, my friend indeed,
This is my friend, my friend indeed,
Who at my need, His life did spend.
Sometimes they crowd His way and His sweet praises sing
Resounding all the day, hosannas to their King
Then, "Crucify!" is all their breath,
Then, "Crucify!" is all their breath,
And for His death they thirst and cry.
Why, what has my Lord done to cause this rage and spite
He made the lame to run, and gave the blind their sight
What injuries, yet these are why,
What injuries, yet these are why,
The Lord Most High so cruelly dies.
With angry shouts they have my dear Lord done away
A murderer they save, the Prince of Life they slay
Yet willingly, He bears the shame,
Yet willingly, He bears the shame,
That through His name all might be free.
Here might I stay and sing of Him my soul adores
Never was love, dear King, never was grief like Yours
This is my friend in whose sweet praise,
This is my friend in whose sweet praise,
I, all my days would gladly spend.
1 comments:
Thanks Robin, I needed that!
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