Thursday, July 11, 2013

How do I know I'm loved?

How do I know I'm loved? How do you know you're loved? I mean, really know, from the depth of your being, from somewhere you can't even really name?




This is something I've been pondering a lot lately. First of all because the past year has been a tough year marriage wise. I mean, let's face it. When I got married, it was for better and for worse. But I had no idea what the worse could look like. I don't think I even believed the worse would actually happen to ME. Am I the only one who was so naive? So as we hit some bumps, and then some pretty big holes, I wasn't ready. It hurt, and I wanted to run. But I didn't. Why? Why didn't I leave the house, get into the car and drive away? LOVE. Because I love my husband. I love him with all of my being. He's inside every single skin pore and body cell. I became one with him when I agreed to marry him. For better and for worse. I am dedicated to the love I have for him. And to be honest, he's not always loveable, just like I'm definately not always loveable (PMS, anyone??), but I love him. Not only that, I choose to love him. Every day. Every hour. Every minute. And so when my whole being is aching to run away from the hurt, from the argument, from the tears, I don't. I open the bedroom door (or rather I don't lock it so that he can come in when he's ready), I try not to lie down in a solid ball with my back to him, but lie on my back or facing him. I choose to talk to him with an open heart. Yes, it hurts. Sometimes a lot. And it would probably be a lot easier to walk away or not talk things over... for now. But oh the sweet reward when misunderstandings are explained, when sorries are said and forgiveness is offered! I have seen my love grow deeper than I ever thought was possible.


I know I'm loved because my husband is still by my side. Despite my mistakes, despite sickness (and believe me Post Natal Depression is uuuuugly), despite all my imperfections (did someone say too stressed? control-freak? over spender?). He loves me. And I see reflected in his forgiveness and in his love, the love that God my Father has for me and for every single one of us.

My God loves me. Just as I am. He doesn't even have to choose to love me. He just does. Isn't that amazing? But last night, someone asked "How do you know God loves you?". I stayed stuck on that one all evening, and all night and it inspired me to write to you today. How do you know God loves you? I know God loves me because he pulled me back from the depths of depression twice. I know God loves me because when all I wanted to do was die, I could just about physically feel God's hand on my shoulder, holding me back. I know God loves me because he has sent angels in disguise to help me every single time I needed it. I know God loves me because he has blessed me with an amazing (but very human) husband and two gorgeous (but very human) children. I know God loves me because I was lucky enough to grow up with Christian parents who showed me God's love. Who didn't favor one child over another, who have stayed together for better and for worse. Who modeled God's love in their lives.


My God loves you. Just as you are. How do you know you are loved? By others, and by God? Take some time to think about it. And let me know if you have a good way of telling others about God's love for them. Because I struggle with that one.