I think God gives me words once a while because they last. And emotions don’t.

Today, I don’t feel perfectly loved. I don’t feel the abounding, sustaining, suffocating love I easily described a couple days ago. And I don’t know why. But I know I don’t.

I have theories though. About why I don’t.

As I was sitting here this afternoon, feeling less than perfectly loved, a friend messaged me asking how to make pasta. I told him my favourite part is throwing it against the cupboard to see if it sticks – an absolutely guarantee that your pasta is ready! Yum.

Anyways – he proceeded to make his pasta, cupboard throwing and all. And was so pleased with his success he came online to tell me how well it worked, and more than that – featured this accomplishment in his facebook and twitter status – with a shout out to yours truly. And can I, regretfully, tell you, that –emotion wise –this was the most loved I felt this evening.

I think the world has become really good at acting.

John Paul II wrote of our heart’s yearnings.

I find great peace in thinking of the time when the Lord will call me: from life to life! And so I often find myself saying, with no trace of melancholy, a prayer recited by priests after the celebration of the Eucharist: In hora mortis meae voca me, et iube me venire ad te – at the hour of my death, call me and bid me come to you. This is the prayer of Christian hope, which in no way detracts from the joy of the present, while entrusting the future to God's gracious and loving care.

“Iube me venire ad te!”: this is the deepest yearning of the human heart, even in those who are not conscious of it.


I don’t always see this. The people I encounter don’t appear to be hungry. They don’t scream yearning. And when I’m stuck in my own world, engulfed by the love of the Father, I think I’m quick to forget what it is to NOT know the love of the Lord. To not have that yearning spoken for.

My theory: when I find myself suddenly feeling unloved, I think that’s a bit of a wake up call. It’s a reminder of how I would feel most everyday if I didn’t know, have or embrace the love of my Father. A reminder that though we can all put on happy faces and pretend we’re satisfied; though we can even convince ourselves that we have what we need, it doesn’t make it real. Our longing doesn’t go away. A reminder that just because everyone seems to have it together doesn’t mean they do. A reminder that we are capable of wearing masks and pretending we’ve found what we’re looking for – though that remains a distant reality for many.

Life’s a lot easier if we ignore the yearning of our human hearts. Or the yearning of those hearts around us. It’s easier when we accept people at their face value and fill our lives with temporary pleasures to dull the ache of our own longings.

So many of the things we do can be explained by our hunger to be accepted, to be needed and to have purpose in our lives because much of who we are is wrapped up in our hearts. And so it follows that our true happiness lies in satisfying those innate desires with that for which they were created.

Objectively, we often find ourselves on the outside of situations that our friends or family are involved in and we just can’t understand why they are where they are. We don’t understand why they choose option A, when it is slowly destroying them, while option B has their true best interests at heart.

Look to their yearnings.
Look to the rawest desires of their heart.

Therein we find the answers.


Our hearts are restless until they find rest in You.
St. Augstine

Drowning in love

I know I say it a lot – but we are so perfectly loved.

I love my parents. And they love each other so much.
But I’ve noticed that when my dad does something for my mom, to express his love, he often does something that would make him feel loved – versus expressing his love according to her love language. And vice versa.

There’s a bit of incongruence that happens here, since my mom doesn’t necessarily experience love the same way dad does. And so, while their intentions are perfect, their actions aren’t always a perfect reflection of their intention.

Gary Chapman may have been one of the first to discuss our love languages a good deal. I’m a fan.
(http://www.fivelovelanguages.com/)

And as I’ve pondered this ‘imperfect’ love, I find God’s character as our Creator begins to pop.

Over the past few months, I’ve found myself floored by how loved I can feel in a moment. It’s a love that I think no human can perfectly express.

I’m so fickle. My needs, my desires, my wants are constantly changing. I could never expect anyone on this Earth to keep up, to know what I’m feeling in a moment, and to know how to love me perfectly. There are times when I’m lonely, and want to be engaged and reminded that my life is important. And then there are times when I’m overwhelmed with work, and the best way I receive love is when I’m given space, without you feeling like I no longer love you.

And so I cannot expect to always be understood or loved perfectly for my thoughts are not always plastered on my forehead. And still - that’s the thing about God. He’s always BANG ON.

There’s no guessing game with Him. He doesn’t have to decipher my words or my actions. He knows.
Just as Bill Gates knows how to fine tune the PC world, as a pet owner knows how to work with their pet, so our Creator knows His Creation. And in so knowing us, He loves us just as we need to be loved.

And through this love we find ourselves almost crushed by the beauty of His love that can drown us in a moment. If love could suffocate, I think His would.