One song played in my house all weekend. It’s called “Pieces”, sang by Steffany Gretzinger at IHOP’s One Thing 2015. These words got down deep in my soul…
“Your love’s not fractured, it’s not a troubled mind
It isn’t anxious, it’s not the restless kind
Your love’s not passive, it’s never disengaged
It’s always present, it hangs on every word we say”…
For two days this song thumped it’s beat on my heart until my heart began to respond. At first, it was just background music while I did other things, but before long…I couldn’t do other things and I couldn’t stop thinking about Him.
About this Love that I had gone back to earning. As if.
All weekend God reset bones that had been broken by my attempts to be strong enough, good enough. With this song He uncovered truth that had become overshadowed by a lie.
His love is unlike any other love.
I have had other loves. Loves that used and abused and then left. Loves that didn’t protect my heart but broke it to pieces and then left. Loves that were there until I wasn’t what they wanted anymore. Loves that flattered and lied and demanded and needed and then fled in search of something more, something better. Loves that hurt. Loves that were afraid of too much or too little or not enough. Loves that were selfish, impatient and unkind. Loves that were earned until I just couldn’t earn it enough. Loves that gave me pieces but never all.
We’ve all had other loves — been other loves. And the lie comes in quietly, seeping in deep before we can catch it.
His love is just like every other love.
And then, on a weekend like any other, God comes after the lie. He climbs down into the pit you’ve been in, and He sings truth until something breaks free. Until the lie retreats because lies just aren’t strong enough to win a battle with truth.
Until your eyes open enough to realize that Love is fighting for you.
Today is Monday and truth is still singing. Still resetting bones that have broken trying to be good enough. And I ask Him how long will He keep this up. How many times will He come to this pit and pull me up? How many times will He reach for me and pull me into Him and tell me over and over that He loves me?
“As many as it takes. My love never leaves.”
I am covered by the dirt of my pit, but I’m taking His hand anyway.
I am unlovely, but He loves me anyway. Not in pieces, but wholly. Fully. Unconditionally. Perfectly.
I am like other loves.