Surely, these things are a blessing to the
heart of God! There is nothing wrong with
any of them. However, they are empty
unless inspired by an outpouring of
adoration for Christ. We must be careful
that what we do for God does not
become more important than our
relationship with Him. See, God created
the Universe. He fabricated the Pacific Rim
and etched the ridges of Everest. He
created
you
from
the
miraculous
embedding of seed in seed. As the
Almighty Creator, God really doesn’t need
you to do anything for Him.
What He does desire is your heart. Loving
God is not a formula we follow—it is a
relationship we pursue. The book of James,
so prominent in its emphasis on the works
of faith, never wavers from the truth that
works are produced by love—not the other
way around. All our good deeds are as
filthy rags outside of the redeeming blood
of Christ, meaningless beyond the context
of response to Him. Like the tender
husband in the story, God delights in the
things we do to show our commitment—
but most of all He yearns for us. For our
hearts!
To love God with our whole heart, we must
let Him love us first. His love is unlike any
you’ve ever known—being all at once
faithful,
passionate,
purging,
and
whimsical. Our hearts long for it as much as
we tremble at the vulnerability it requires.
Like the wife in the story, we fear being
deeply known—what if the result is
rejection? What if He sees something I
have tried all my life to hide? What if I lose
control? It feels safer to hold God at arms’
length than to become still and spiritually
To refuse to accept
the gift of His love
without attempting to
earn it on my own is to
replant the poison
seed of Eden; to echo
Eve in the face of my
Maker: “What you
have provided is not
enough.”
naked before Him.
I struggled for a long time with the concept
of intimacy with God—mostly due to a
belief that He was cold and distant. Those
robust Sunday School renditions of “Jesus
Loves Me” left no doubt in my intellect, but
as the innocence of childhood waned,
“the Bible tells me so” no longer cut it as an
explanation for how I knew He loved me.
The vision of a Holy Savior moving
resolutely from town to town preaching in
somber tones just didn’t connect with my
simple desire to be known and loved. I
feared divine rejection and believed deep
down that the only reason Jesus would
accept me was if I could do enough to
earn His favor.
It took the gentle intervention of the Holy
Spirit along with the loving input of wise
mentors to open my eyes to the truth. I saw
my own pride measured against the steep
price Jesus paid. I realized that to try to
earn His love was like saying, “Sorry God…
21