This is Love

God has always spoken to me about life. My relationship with Him was never built on fear. It was built on worship.

Even the day I gave my life to Christ as a student, it was not a sermon that captured me it was praise and worship. I had visited church before, but that day was different. The atmosphere shifted something inside me. The song they were singing was:

“From the rising of the sun to the going down of the same, Jesus is worthy.”

I remember exactly where I was sitting at the top balcony, wearing a red jacket. So far from the stage that I could barely see the pastor clearly. And yet, in the middle of worship, he stopped and said, “There is a young girl at the top in a red jacket  today is your day.”

Logically, it made no sense. I was far away. Easy to miss. But I knew in that moment that I was not unseen.

And more than that  I knew my walk with God would never be casual. There are moments in life where Heaven marks you quietly. No fireworks. No thunder. Just a knowing.

That was mine.

And ever since then, my relationship with God has centered around worship intimacy, closeness, a Father-daughter rhythm. Not heavy. Not performance-driven. Just belonging.

So this morning, as I was getting ready for work  far from home  a song surfaced in my spirit: “So this is love.”

I have never really listened to it from beginning to end. It floats across social media occasionally, but it has not been part of my daily soundtrack. Yet today it rose gently, almost like a whisper.

“So this is love.”

And I found myself smiling. Because I am not even home. I am in unfamiliar territory. And I thought where would I meet this love?

But immediately I sensed that perhaps this is not only about romantic love. Perhaps this is about recognizing love in all its forms.

The love of God. The love expressed through people. The love that surprises you. The love that feels unfamiliar because you are used to bracing yourself instead of receiving.

I realized something about myself this morning. Sometimes we rehearse pain so consistently that it becomes natural. We rehearse disappointment until it feels safer than expectation. We anticipate absence before we allow ourselves to anticipate affection. And the Lord has been gently calling me into a different way of living.

A life where I expect love. Not fantasy. Not illusion. But real, embodied expressions of His goodness.

I caught myself saying, “One day I will experience love.” And then I paused.

Why am I pushing it away to “one day”? Why not today? Why not enter this day open, expectant, unguarded?

So today even though Valentine’s Day has passed I am declaring this my day of love.

Whatever form it comes in. However the Lord chooses to express it. Through friendship. Through kindness. Through unexpected tenderness. Through divine alignment. Through His own unmistakable presence.

I welcome it.

I may not fully understand this love journey. I have walked deeply with God. I know His love. But I have not walked hand-in-hand with another in that covenant way.

And sometimes I even laugh at myself bringing this to God as if it is too small, too human, too tender.

But He cares about every part of my life.

Every part.

So I bring it all.

Open.

Ready.

Expectant.