Love that Outlives the Grave
Well now, bless your lil’ ol’ heart for makin’ your way by here today, friend. Ease yourself right on up here to this ol’ front porch and rest your weary ol’ bones a lil’ ol’ spell before your thoughts go to skitterin’ around like a lil’ ol’ squirrel that found the birdseed barrel with the lid off. The breeze is real soft, the tea is real sweet and cool, and the mercy of God is a whole lot sweeter than fresh-picked blackberries warmed by the sun. Today we’re sittin’ out here with a love so mighty it can stare down the grave without even takin’ time for blinkin’ an eye.
Song of Solomon 8:6 says, "Place me like a seal over your heart, like a seal on your arm; for love is as strong as death, its jealousy unyielding as the grave. It burns like blazing fire, like a mighty flame." That surely ain’t talkin’ about our flimsy little love by itself. Why, our love can sometimes wilt faster than lettuce in July. But Jesus’ love, now that’s purely another matter. His love walked straight toward the cross, bore shame, carried our sin, and endured the lonely darkness no soul could survive without divine strength. Death came growlin’ like a cornered, mean wildcat, but love plum stood its ground and won.
That’s sho’-nuff’ why the cross still leaves us speechless. Jesus didn’t love us halfway. He loved us all the way through nails, sorrow, abandonment, and sacrifice. And 2 Corinthians 5:14 says, “For Christ’s love compels us, because we are convinced that one died for all, and therefore all died.” His love don’t just comfort us. It moves us. It stirs sleepy hearts awake. It puts holy fire in our bones and makes us long to love Him back with more than a Sunday smile and a hymnbook in hand.
Friend, when you see how fiercely Christ has loved you, you gonna want to stop treatin’ grace like a spare button in the sewin’ basket. You begin to treasure Him. You begin to want Him. You begin to pray for a love that won’t fold up like an ol’ lawn chair in a windstorm.
Father, thank You for the strong love of Jesus that carried Him through the cross for me. Kindle in my heart a deeper love for Him, not weak and wavering, but living, growing, and willing. Let the love of Christ press in on my soul until I love You more freely, more steadily, and more truly. In Jesus’ name, Amen.
Mercy, friend, gather yourself up and step off this porch with your heart pointed straight toward Calvary. An ol’ hickory stump may look about as dead as an ol’ rusty doornail, but life can still be runnin’ mighty deep where no eye can see. So, let Christ’s love settle on you like warm sunlight on a frostbitten field, and don’t go to draggin’ your feet as though you’re plum unloved. You’re downright loved by a Savior whose affection plum outlasted death itself. That ought to put some real bouncin’ spring in your step clear past suppertime.
With joy,
Gwen
