(~3 minute read)
I am being loved.
I like that wording more than, “I am loved,” or, “I am loved by God.”
And, “God loves me,” feels like God — as a third-person subject — is an idealization, or objectification, external to me, out there, elsewhere; and I’m just a passive object. Doesn’t feel right.
“I am being loved,” feels more intimate, warm, breathing with aliveness. “Am being.” More present. Has more action. Evokes a sense of arms actively enfolding me, or my head being drawn to rest in a bosom. Passionate, at this moment, in the present.
When joy or gratitude swell up from my heart as a lump in my throat, I am being loved by God.
When I feel uncertain, or am running late, frustrated, I am being loved.
When I feel judged and rejected, I am being loved.
When I want to weep, or am sobbing, I am being loved.
When my ruminations can’t transcend my human frailty, and self-talk overloads my thoughts, or I feel ashamed, abandoned, depressed, or I feel resentment, or regret, I am being loved by God.
It reeks of tender relentlessness. The pursuit never stops, yet never is there chasing. No guilt, no haunting. I am being loved.
My Pursuer is not — when I stop to turn — standing too closely or threatening or exerting a reminder.
The face is not a scowl of disapproval.
Brows are not raised, expecting or awaiting self-indictment.
Eyes are not downcast to spare my shame.
I am being loved by God.
If I turned to face my Lover, I most often wouldn’t sense a face, but subtly outstretched arms, below horizontal, not reaching for me. Meekly calling. Inviting.
Longing.
Palms outward, fingers relaxed, not grasping. But there is no question that those hands will catch me. Not wrestle to hold me up and keep me from falling. Just a perfectly gentle, weightless catch naturally matched to my collapse. A melting into.
My only impulse is to curl up into that bosom, surrendered to a non-conquerer.
If I am feeling gratitude or joy, it is a shared happiness for me.
When I am weak for any reason, it’s an embrace of comforting, warm stillness. No words. Just compassionate presence.
I am being loved.
Not, “I will be loved by God,” with some “if…” attached.
AM BEING.
Not, “if” I just believe, if I surrender, if I work at this, if I stop that, if I meditate more, if I pray and ask… Already am being loved. Then and now. But ‘then’ no longer matters, or matters less until it matters not at all as I rest in that bosom, being loved.
I am being loved.
.
-Neil D. 2019-11-13
Sequel: I am being loved (2). You. Your Power. A Christface
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