Quite a while ago, I asked you all a question: How do you know that God loves you? The responses to this question were so underwhelmingly few that I have come to the conclusion that God doesn't love any of you. Just kidding. I received some great responses that were very encouraging. One friend, who is the Pastor of a small church in Hick, Indiana (not the real name), said that he knows of God's love because he has been commisioned to preach the Gospel. Another said that when she sees the moon she knows that God loves her. Someone even sent me a list of fifty, that's right, fifty reasons why she knows that God loves her.
But now you ask me, "Why, Mike Gorski, did you pose this question?" Well, since I know that you have all been losing sleep over it, and your relief is at my disposal, here is my response.
I often question that He does. Very often.
This all came up while I was reading Don Miller's book "Blue Like Jazz" a few months ago. In one of the sentences in one of the paragraphs in one of the chapters, he basically says that you can't love other people until you learn that God loves you. I won't go into all the reasons why I think this is true, but I think it is perfectly accurate. Anyway, I started to think, and ended up asking myself if I believe that God loves me. And the answer? Sort of.
In an abstract sense, I have no doubt that God loves me. For all the reasons people sent me, for the innumerable times it is mentioned in Scripture, I know it's true. But why do I struggle to BELIEVE these truths? Answer--I want to suffer for my sin. I know that I can't pay for my sin, only Christ's blood can do that. I'm not trying to do good works in order to be saved, it is impossible. For that very reason I want to suffer. God has done what no man could--He has taken His enemies, and, through His love, made them His children. But I feel guilty that He ever had to reconcile me to Himself.
Imagine a feast, prepared by a Father for his children. The food is of unmatched quality, but even more important, it is seasoned with a love that has no rival. They all gather to eat, but one of the children refuses to sit at the table with the others. He refuses to eat anything but the scraps that are going to be thrown away. He feels this way because he was adopted, rescued from the worst conditions imaginable, where he had no hope, no dreams, no possibilities. He was already dead, it's just that his body was catching up to the truth. Then, all of a sudden, he was adopted. It was his Father who saved him, and who tenderly summons him to the table at this very moment. The child still refuses to eat. In his eyes, the Father shouldn't have had to rescue him in the first place, and now he feels like a burden. But all of his siblings are adopted as well, and the Father continues to affectionately call him his son and invite him to join in the feast.
His name is Mike Gorski.
God still fervently pursues him.
And His love will never fail.