You know what I’d hate? Really, really hate?

I’d hate it if my husband just loved me because it was the right thing to do. I’d hate it if he was thoughtful and kind to me only because of his own high moral standards. I’d hate it if he brought me flowers… played his guitar and sang to me… surrounded me daily with beauty… out of duty, rather than because he found genuine pleasure and delight in my company.

My heart would wither and die under the assault of that kind of passionless and dutiful love. And yet, so many of us seem to picture God’s love for us in just those terms.

Does God just love us because he resolved, somewhere before time began, to do so? Or does he actually feel love for us, passionate love, wanting to be near us, to touch us, to live heart to heart with us?

This question hit my heart not long ago as I listened to John chapters 13 and 14 on my audio Bible. Somehow, hearing the conversation taking place between Jesus and his disciples as he told them he’d be leaving was different from reading it. For the first time, I felt the deep heartache in Jesus’ words as he told them he was going away and urged them repeatedly to love one another on his behalf. I realized with shock that it was exactly what I would say to my beloved children if I learned I would soon be separated from them:

“I have to go, so please, love each other for me. I won’t be here any longer to hug you, eat with you, talk with you face to face–so stand in for me. Just like I’ve loved you, love each other for me!”

“Little children, yet a little while I am with you. You will seek me, and just as I said to the Jews, so now I also say to you, ‘Where I am going you cannot come.’ A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another: just as I have loved you, you also are to love one another. By this all people will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.”  (John 13:33-35)

Against all odds, Jesus genuinely liked being with his disciples, and parting from them hurt his heart. He tenderly called them “children”, “friends” and “brothers”, and so they were.

And so we are.

But it gets even better. Not only was Jesus clearly distressed about leaving his disciples, he was just as clearly looking forward to the day he’d be physically reunited with them!

 “Let not your hearts be troubled. Believe in God; believe also in me. In my Father’s house are many rooms. If it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you?  And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and will take you to myself, that where I am you may be also.”

Together again! Able once again to gather each other in a hug, to eat together, to talk face to face. That, for us, is a perfect description of heaven (in his presence is fullness of joy!), but how exciting is that idea for Jesus?

The Bible refers to Jesus as the Bridegroom, and to the Church (all believers in Christ) as his Bride. It would be a strange and depressing bridegroom who didn’t eagerly yearn for  the day he would be united in marriage to his beloved bride, would it not? Who didn’t count the days with great anticipation? And so, I believe, it is with our Lord and Bridegroom as he awaits the day when he gets to come for us.

When Terry and I married, a friend took one of our out-of-focus wedding pictures and made us a little plaque which has hung in our house for the past 43 years. It says:

“Does your heart leap and skip at the thought of Jesus coming, like the heart of a bride as her bridegroom approaches?”

It enthralls my heart to realize Jesus feels the exact same way about us. We are loved.

“You are altogether beautiful, my darling, And there is no blemish in you. Come with me from Lebanon, my bride….You have made my heart beat faster, my sister, my bride; you have made my heart beat faster with a single glance of your eyes, With a single strand of your necklace…” (Song of Songs 4)

© 2017 Deborah Morris