To Be Loved

It’s an overwhelming thing, being loved. I’ve been loved my entire life by my family and friends. I’ve always known God’s love. But lately I’ve been stunned silent by a magnitude of love I didn’t truly know existed. Yesterday was my birthday, which was basically overlooked since the wedding is so close (24 days). Usually I shout about my birthday for at least a month ahead of time, and make sure that everyone within an 80 mile radius is informed and knows to celebrate appropriately. But this year, it snuck up on me, and passed rather quietly. That is, until it was Ryan’s turn to love on me. After work, he took me to dinner, and then for dessert at The Melting Pot – this fun fondue restaurant in downtown Nashville. I’ve been there before, but never on a date. Never with a hot guy. Never for my birthday. The hostess led us to our table, a corner booth in the back, big enough for 1½. We sat close and looked at each other, and he told me things I’ve always wanted to hear but never truly felt I deserved. The waiter brought out the chocolate and I thought things couldn’t get any better. But they did.
After dessert, Ryan had more surprises in store. A cake that said “Thirty Wonderful” and the new Coldplay CD and a card that made me misty. But there was more. He made me sit on the couch while he went to get his guitar. Then he sang me a song that he wrote – just for me. A song that spoke truth and love in a way I can’t verbalize. And I cried and cried. Then I cried some more.
I tried to explain my sobs, but couldn’t. I don’t even know if I can now, except that it’s an overwhelming thing, being loved. So completely loved. Without pretense or rules or expectations to be something else. To just be loved. Wholly. Thoroughly. Safely. The lyrics to his song showed me that he knows me. He knows me. And he loves me more than I’ve ever been loved in my life. I just stared at him, shocked. Aghast. Satisfied.
This morning I was driving to work thinking about Ryan and the song. Thinking about what a gift he is to me. About how much I adore him. About how crazy this love is. And it made me think about Jesus. If I believe Scripture to be true, then it’s true that Jesus loves me more than Ryan ever will – something I can’t fathom, although I believe it. But, do I really? Seems like my life would radically change if I truly believed the depth and magnitude of Christ’s love for me. If I accepted it. Recognized it. Bathed in it.
It's still, sometimes, hard for me to trust Ryan's love. Even harder to trust Jesus. But I'm learning.