I wasn’t raised on the tender.
There wasn’t a focus on when he washed his disciples’ feet or the tears that were shed over the passing of his dear friend. When Mary was there listening attentively, I knew Martha was faithfully doing the ‘right thing’.
We didn’t look at the last meal and have any real thoughts about the fact that his followers embraced him in a loving manner just hours before he prayed for them. Loved them. Died for them.
I didn’t know love at all.
I knew performance and prophecy and had a pretty good take on the scriptures from the book - at least the ones that were often bellowed from the pulpit. I’m no theologian, but I knew the message that was being taught. Unfortunately, a lot of times it was wrong.
Not wrong because it was a lie, but wrong because the focus wasn’t on grace and forgiveness and accepting as we are. It was on ‘we accept you more - the more you become like us’. Something that still resonates today, I believe.
Somewhere I missed that message. The tender message of hope through the eyes of love.
And yet that is the one thing that has kept me here. The love of a being that I don’t understand but I still yell at sometimes, even today. I beg and plead and cry to, and realize that nothing works without him. Without this all powerful being that was so stupid-crazy that he came down and walked among us.
He came to love.
So the journey more recently has been to understand this love thing. It’s nothing new. I can probably pick out at least five or six of my recent blogs that deal specifically with that topic, but today it’s more specifically about the fact that there are so many places that I used to think about the judgment of God that are truly about the Love of God.
And as I’m still working on the fact that he might just accept me as I am today, red eyed and snotty nosed, dripping with depression, I know that he loves me.
Instead of asking ‘why?’ I just say very quietly…
“Thank You.”
~ Peace
The Burtle

