They say a relationship with a writer is worth nothing if the writer doesn’t write about you.
I never really thought this was true until I looked back at my own relationships. I wrote about the good ones. I always wrote about them. And I rarely wrote about the bad ones. Terrible things, maybe. But never the kind of thing one would write in an act of love.
Looking back on the things I’ve written lately, I can conclude something. I am in love with a greater love than I could’ve ever hoped for.
I am in love with Jesus.
Sounds silly to say it that way, maybe. But it is really so weird?
To think about the basis of the Christian faith, the belief God sent Jesus to bear the weight of the world’s sin on his own innocent shoulders, it seems even more silly not to say that I’m in love.
I can’t seem to shut up about this love I found. And I won’t.
When you’re in a new relationship, just beginning to fall in love, they’re all you can talk about. Then when you confess your love for one another, they’re still all you can talk about. Then you get married and still talk about them. Or you break up and still talk about them. You talk about things you love.
It is just human nature to blabber on endlessly about the love in your life even when people are really sick of hearing it.
Why don’t we do that in our faith then?
Don’t we believe God is love? Don’t we believe the stories? Don’t we believe Jesus is the greatest option we have in this life and in eternity? And don’t we believe it’s a great enough gospel to tell other people?
Why is this love different?
I’m not saying preach at everyone you meet. There’s a time and a place for that. But talking about something and preaching and condemning and acting like a know-it-all are very different things.
I talk about my friends because I love them. I talk about my boyfriend. I talk about my puppy. And I should be talking about Jesus. Because he is the greatest love of all.