I first heard the words some weeks ago.
We were talking about something that was painful for me to see. Somewhere in our conversation we stopped to listen to what Jesus might be wanting to say to me in that uncomfortable place of not liking what I saw in myself and finding myself unable to fix it. And the invitation that came then has kept coming each day since, echoing through my fears and into my failures, His presence in my hopes and disappointments and uncertainties: “This is where I want to love you.”
Right here in your fear.
Right here in your not-yet-perfection.
Right here in the painful place of not being able to fix the things that you don’t like to see.
This is where I want to love you.
His words disarm my tendency to beat up on myself.
They replace my fear that God is disappointed with me with the truth that He delights in me.
They help me rest in His gentleness.
On Saturday I ran. I was getting my morning exercise. I was also trying to outrun the chorus which mocked me. As I stood at the end of my run with my ankle on the stairwell railing and bent at the waist to stretch, I saw it lying there on the rough hardness, right down near the cracks and the fallen fig leaves, the bits of grey gravel and the dirt off everyone’s feet—the pink petalled reminder, “This is where I want to love you.”