Love

"And a voice came from the heavens, 'You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.'"

—Mark 1:11, NRSV

This is what it all boils down to for me. Belovedness. A love that started at the beginning of time, freely given to the end of time, that cannot be altered by any action, attitude, or attribute.

You are loved! Forever and always.

It is both the most simple truth and the most difficult to receive.

I grew up in church—many churches, many traditions. Presbyterian, Baptist, Methodist, Disciples of Christ, now Episcopal. I went to Divinity School. I've been a youth pastor and a missionary. I've written books, preached, and taught Sunday school on grace and the love of God.

But it wasn't until I was nearly 40 years old that I really believed I was also beloved.

Despite wise mentors, thorough education, hours on the pew, dear friends, and loving family, I still lived with the illusion that I had to earn God's love—that somehow grace was freely available to everyone except me. It's a convoluted form of egoism, I think.

Then I experienced a season when I wasn't employed, when I couldn't write, when my children were becoming more independent, when my marriage was struggling. I couldn't see a single reason God would love me. And yet somehow I knew this most audacious Love was true even for me.

I can't point to the moment or the reading or the prayer or the person that marked the change. But like a butterfly emerging from a chrysalis, I came out of that season different.

I knew—and I continue to rely on this truth—that I am a child of God, and I am beloved.

It doesn't change my circumstances. It doesn't mean I don't still slip into seasons of sadness or depression. It doesn't mean I have any answers. But trusting in that Love does sustain my faith when I feel most vulnerable.

A Practice for Love

Our practice this week is the simplest, but may be the most difficult one yet.

Sit quietly with your hand on your heart. Personalize the scripture from Mark for yourself, repeating:

INHALE: [Your name], you are my child, beloved;

EXHALE: With you I am well pleased.

You may imagine these words coming from God, or your Higher Power. You may imagine them from a parent, living or deceased. Maybe it's enough to simply recite this truth without attributing the words to anyone.

May you know: You are beloved.

May it make all the difference.