Loving Like Rain by McKenna Vietti
There are infinite kinds of love in this world. Life exposes us to the myriad of relationships we face, but nothing quite prepares us for the journey. Our youthfulness convinces us that in order to be happy, we must be in love; this idea only strengthens with time.
Thoughts of love (or serious lack of it) exhaust our hopeless attempts for someone to acknowledge the wonder of who we are. They patronize our thoughts and become the flagship of our waking hours. The variety of love only strengthens the kinds of thirst and sorrow that accompany this pursuit. However, almost all loves require our own blood; our hearts rarely become unscathed. We forfeit the right that if our hearts burst, it is not our beloved to blame, but ourselves.
I am no exception. Like a butterfly emerging the cocoon, my heart leaped from its cage ready to land in the arms of one who ultimately left me crestfallen and disappointed. Watching him fall was watching a glass pedestal break in slow motion. But once more, he wasn’t to blame for the shards that cut me; I was the one who placed him high above, where no one else could reach.
Issues of the heart are not so simple. We long for people out of our reach. We believe the tighter we hold on, the closer they will stay. Whether a beaten past drives us into the arms of another, I have learned from falling, time and again, that the only arms I know I’m safe are those of my Creator.
It’s a notion that has quietly crept upon me, but the thought is inescapable. In God we trust, we so proudly acknowledge. God is love, we pen on the doorframes of homes and bedroom walls. But how firmly do we believe that the Creator of icy blue galaxies and oceans, serrated majestic mountain ranges, the mysteries of music, and all else in this beautifully broken world, is irrevocably in love with us? The question is ever with me as I sit on the edge of my bed, watch the steam rise from my espresso, or walk in the light of my front porch.
What is it like to be loved by God?
At dusk, I walk through rain-soaked fields and once again ponder the question. Autumn showers have cleansed the Earth, dissipated the smoky summer skies, and breathed fresh air from the heavens to the soil. Months ago, these fields and this land were drenched in sunlight and smoke; now they are rain-spattered, robed in sparkling drops that have seem to have given us all new life.
We are allowed to breathe again.
Hosea preached to the Israelites that the Lord would come to them like the spring showers that water the Earth. In the same sense, I discover that his love is as gentle, pure, and powerful as the falling rains. The recklessness of mortal love doesn’t cleanse but leaves behind stains and cuts that must be purified and healed only by our perfect Savior.
The solitude coerces me to cry out for a deeper understanding, and again I ask: what is it like to be loved by God? What would cause Abraham to give up his son? Why would Daniel refuse to bow to any other? What drives men and women to dedicate their lives, to sacrifice themselves in desolation and destitution and torture, because of this love?
I’ve wrestled with the idea of God versus the reality of who God is, and now understand that the answer is really not so simple. In my discovery, I’ve learned that humans are swayed by emotions; God is not. I crave the ability to feel his presence with me, and when all that responds is a seemingly empty void, I question. Lord, why can’t I feel you? He is not limited to my emotions or any emotions in general. He speaks more than just through feelings. He reaches through the starry landscapes and the powerful oceanside, responding with a power and depth that clings to the tarried frays of my soul.
To be loved by God is more than seeing his creation encompassed around me. As I’ve pondered his words and promises, they’ve manifested themselves throughout my life, in ways I couldn’t see at the time; but looking back there is no other explanation. My Bible falls open to countless promises that I am tempted to question, but how can my human heart doubt the word of God?
It’s the promise that he hears the prayers of the righteous, of his children. The promise that I say to myself, over and over, as I’m pacing the courtyard of a hospital, praying for the Lord’s anointing over my mother who lays inside.
It’s laying alone in the darkness while the bleak early morning hours promise uncertainty; yet he promises that he will not leave me or forsake me, that he is nearer to me than my very breath. I inhale and exhale his precious name: Yah-weh…Yah-weh…
It’s seeing how he allowed the pedestal to fall and the shards to cut, because if he’d allowed me to climb it on my own, I may have fallen to my death.
It’s the unmistakable realization that yes, after all this time, he still pursues me. Even as I’m standing in the middle of rain-covered fields, screaming for him to answer. Even as I’m chasing loves that will let my heart fall without a second thought. His grace is never-ending, his mercies are new each morning, and I don’t have to remain in my shame but am free to rest in his grace.
It is impossible to aggregate what it’s like to be loved by God because human terms cannot explain God. We have his Word which illuminates truth into our lives and circumstances. Our experiences become our testimonies in which he shows up emphatically and intricately, like the sun shining through stained glass windows in a cathedral. The colors, the design, everything is there; but the moment the light pours through, the beauty is recognized and we gasp in awe.
It is a blend of gratitude, humility, and reverence that propels me toward this revelation. Gently I’m consumed. Like a vessel that capsizes, I drown beneath overpowering waves that come not to harm me, but to saturate me with adoration. In it, I am saved and overwhelmed. In his hands, my heart is protected. Unlike other loves, I am assured that nothing will happen to my heart, as long as it is held by the Holy One.
McKenna Vietti is a writer of articles, poetry, and countless stories (which would be published if she could practice the disciplined art of editing). She has managed to write for a variety of online publications, including Dusk Magazine: An Online Magazine for Generation Y and the literary magazine Drunk Monkeys. She is a contributing writer to The Life and Thoughts About God, both online faith-based publications. She holds a BA in Psychology and is currently pursuing an MA in Counseling Psychology. Her greatest desire is to live a life of reckless abandon to her Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ (and hopefully publish her first book, which she continues to edit to this day). You can find more of her work on her website mckennajaine.wordpress.com.