On True Love

Anna Claire:

One of our favorite after-school activities right now is park hopping. We've found several places we love: one for the slides, the other for the swings, and our new favorite is this beach at the University Lakes.

You love to play in the sand, to walk the lake trails, and you especially love the pelicans, mallards and geese.

Yesterday, you and I spotted a turtle sunning on some floating bark.

I pointed, "Look, Anne, it's a sweet turtle."

"Where?!" You rejoiced. You squealed and he plopped himself in the water and darted away.

"I think I'll name him Anna," you remarked, "Because he really is cute."

I laughed and you sighed, and we moved along.

I love that you saw something cute and called him by name. Your name. You love your name. You love yourself. You think you're smart and funny and fun. And you are. You are good. You were created good, you have a heart that is good and you love with a deep, passionate love that is good.

And I'm determined to nurture this image you have of yourself because I believe this is how God sees you.

Many times, we adults talk about Jesus and God and make it sound like they're not coming from the same place. Like they're in different camps when it comes to grace and mercy and love.

When I was a teenager, I went to a church function where a youth pastor told me that I was the enemy of God. That I was the enemy of God and God was waiting to strike me down - that God has this bow and arrow in heaven and he's been waiting for my last breath so he can condemn me like the forsaken sinner I am.

And then he told me that Jesus stepped in and took my arrow and God killed him instead of me. So now, I was covered with the blood of Jesus, and when God looked at me, he saw only the blood of his son. And I was forgiven. And then he made us all sing "Amazing Grace" and asked us why God would save wretches. He asked, "Did God get what Jesus Paid for?"

And even at fourteen years old I thought this was crazy. And I hated that he ended the sentence with a preposition. Neither sat with me the right way.

Because I had no idea, up until this point, what a terrible, lost, unhappy, miserable wretch God thought I was. And I had no idea that I was somehow in need of saving.

Because I didn't grow up in church; just with loving parents that told me that I was good, that God loved me, and I was enough, just the way I was.

And I think this church guy felt pretty good about himself. Because he made us all close our eyes and make people raise their hands if they didn't want to be considered enemies of God anymore.

And some people did. They raised their hands, wiped their teary eyes and prayed a prayer that I guess magically got them on God's good side and so he could point his arrow at somebody else.

And I walked away from church and God for quite some time after this, because I was surrounded by teenagers and even grown people who all saw themselves as unworthy of love and acceptance. And there was a lot of shaming and silence and secrecy and judgement. And that was church.

It took me a while to realize the message I received in this place was not the message. Because I finally realized God doesn't have to think like those people and I don't have to accept this theology as truth.

Do you know what I think, Anna? I think God sees us just the way you see yourself right now, at three years old.

I think God marvels at his creation: I think he or she revels in what she's created and says, "Yes. You are good." And I think the sorrow he feels isn't because we sin or screw up. It's because we find these really tricky ways to live in shame and condemnation and judgement that doesn't come from her. It comes from a place deep inside where we long to know and be known and we forget that we already are known and loved. And we have this capacity to know and love God, others, and ourselves.

And I think the message of Jesus was just this - he saw a woman dragged from a tent that was not her own with a man that was not her husband and she was surrounded by shamers who wanted nothing more than to use her infidelity to trap Jesus into breaking the law. And instead of pointing fingers at them or her, he just began to ask questions. Questions of the accusers, questions of the woman, and freed them all from condemnation - condemnation of the self and condemnation of the other. He freed them, not by convicting, but by asking really great questions about who they were and what they wanted.

This doesn't sound like the message of a God or a teacher who want to shame and condemn. This sounds like a beautiful and gentle reminder that we are known and loved and we don't have to live in shame and abandon.

Shame and abandon don't come from God. And it didn't come from Jesus. It comes from us - we do this to each other and ourselves. It tears us apart and makes us broken. We break ourselves and live in this brokenness and the worst part is we were made in the image and likeness of a God who lives in us and breathes through us and we choose to see ourselves as lost.

So, Anna, know this, my dear sweet girl: you are known and loved by a God that wants nothing other than to marvel in you. Who wants nothing more than to see you live a life of freedom and goodness and mercy. Who wants to dance with you and twirl with you and see the world with you and call it good.


You are known and you are loved. And you are enough.