I lean in close as I tuck him into his bed at night.
Cupping my hand to his ear, I whisper into the darkness, “I have a secret.”
I feel his eight-year-old frame perk up with interest. “What?” he whispers back.
“I love you.”
“Mo-ommm! That’s not a secret!” he complains loudly, the holy hush now broken.
We both laugh as I feign surprise. “It’s not?!”
“No! Everybody knows that!”
I know he’s smiling, even though I can’t see his lips.
And I think about God, and how in His infinite mercy and kindness, He leans into me in the darkest of nights and whispers into my ear, “I love you.”
I know it, but sometimes I forget. Or maybe it’s not that I forget, it’s just that I choose to ignore it.
I turn up the music and drown out His voice, and choose to ignore His love.
His precious, undying, sacrificial love.
I’m a rebellious, ungrateful child — but He doesn’t give up.
He keeps on pursuing, keeps on knocking, keeps on leaning down and whispering, night after night.
I hear His whispers in the shadows of the afternoon, I feel them in the evening breeze. I see them written across the sky with each sunrise and sunset.
He loves me.
And He loves you, too. He’s cupping His hand to your ear, and maybe you’re brushing Him off because you already know it.
But maybe He wants us to just lay still and let Him hold us in His love for a while. Right there in the dark.
Related post: I Have a Secret
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