She paused at the as-yet unwritten chorus. How could she describe God’s love?
God’s love hadn’t changed just because her circumstances had. God’s love remained sure, secure, wide, and immovable. How could she describe it in a song that could be sung by believers around the world?
“Lord give me words to describe Your love.”
She closed her eyes, her heart catching as she recalled past conversations and past vistas, here in Muskoka and elsewhere. Discussions about the height and breadth of God’s love, how His mercy was like the stars in the heavens, vast and immeasurable. God’s love was so huge, yet tender and so personal, like right now, as if God had gently pressed His finger on her soul as words sprang to life.
She pressed record, and played through the song again, and this time when she reached the chorus she kept going, those images still in her mind, stirring her spirit.
“Because Your love… is great. Your love is beautiful.” Her throat caught. “Your love so undeserved. Your love stretches out forever to me.”Yes, God, yes God, it does, I know it.
“Your love is not contained, I see the evidence each day. Your love means all the world to me.”
Her eyes pricked, moisture sliding under her closed eyelids. Her hands moved into the chords as if they knew where to go. Oh, she loved it when music just flowed, like a ribbon from heaven through her soul and out onto the piano’s keys.
She went back to the start, tweaking the chords as she went. It was important to make worship songs like this singable for a congregation, not just for her. A few more adjustments, and she played it through again.
“…Your love means all the world to me.”
She paused. She could end it there, or add something else. A bridge was always a good way to reinforce the most important message of a song. And right now, she needed to reiterate this part, especially when her emotions still felt all over the place.
She pressed record again. “There is nothing I can do, to make You love me more or less.” She didn’t have to be good enough to deserve God’s love. Neither did Dan. They were imperfect people, made righteous because of Jesus.
“I’m created as Your child.” Her eyes blurred. God’s child. She pressed a hand to her stomach. Wanted. Loved. Designed by God for His purposes. Not an accident. And because she was God’s child, that was why she could sing with sureness, “So You love me. Yes, You love me.”
She repeated it, as an image of her child, her lost child, swelled in her mind.
Oh, she might have lost that child, but God was with her reminding her that she was God’s child, and nothing could take that away. She was lovedbecauseshe was God’s child. As was everyone else. For if God so loved the world that He gave His only Son, then surely that meant He loved all people, that He’d created them, that He wanted a relationship with all?
If people only knew that God loved them, that He wasn’t some scary ogre in the sky, then surely more would turn to Him and live His way. People like Helen and Andrew, Luke and Marguerite, even Dan’s brother Sam, who didn’t seem to be walking with God too closely these days. Oh, how they needed to know God’s love.
She exhaled, and bowed her head. “Lord, I don’t know what You want to do with this song, but let it be a blessing to others.”
After swiping away yet more tears, she sang the bridge again, reminding her soul of the truth of God’s word. There was nothing she could do for God to love her more. Writing great songs sung by Christians around the world wouldn’t do it. Being a good Christian wouldn’t make God love her more. He just loved her. And similarly, there was nothing she could do that would make Him love her less. Nothing, death nor life, nor tragedy or triumph. She could walk away like the prodigal son and God would still love her. God’s love didn’t change. Because God’s love wasn’t based on her actions, but on His character. And God was love. “God, Youarelove.”
She exhaled shakily. Oh, how powerful were these truths, powerful that she needed to hear them now, needed to be reminded of their truth. God was so good.
She might still be crying at her loss, but loss didn’t change the fact that God still loved her, and He was here right now, holding her up, restoring her soul. Oh, praise God that praising God was like a balm to her spirit, and could set one free from the depths of pain.
* * *
Dan tied up the boat,surprised to hear faint music coming from the house. Sarah was playing the piano? It felt like years since he’d heard her play. Fishing had been pointless. He’d tried to tell Sarah that, but she must have wanted him out of the house or something. He’d been concerned about leaving her alone, but she’d insisted, so he’d given in. He didn’t want to be the cause of any more angst for his wife.
These past few days he’d tried to be super careful, taking care of the meals, the cleaning, doing whatever she wanted and letting her rest, taking care of everything so she could concentrate on getting better. But he got the feeling that despite his efforts, she was still worried about him, which might be why she’d suggested he have a break. That’d be just like her, still trying to put his needs above hers. But he didn’t want her worrying about him. Not when all her energies had to be on getting better.
The music drew him forward, just as it had all those years ago when he’d first heard her sing next door at John and Angela’s, and he hadn’t been able to stay away. Sarah might’ve sung in stadiums and arenas where he’d played games, but she never seemed to understand the magical pull her voice possessed. She just shrugged and said singing was just part of who she was. Which was what made this moment significant.
Thank You God that she’s singing again. He moved slowly up the path, listening to the stops and starts of the stilted music, like she might be crafting a song, or in tears. He stopped on the deck, the open sliding doors allowing the sound to fill his ears. Then he heard Sarah, talking to herself, as she scribbled something on a piece of paper. He entered, not wanting to disturb her, knowing from experience that if she knew he was here she’d clam up.
He lowered onto the walnut dining chair, watching his wife look more animated than she had in days. Eventually she nodded as if satisfied, leaned back then began the piece from the beginning.
“I know You love me, I’ve seen Your grace so many times. Your faithfulness surrounds me…”
He stiffened. How could she sing this song at this time? God wasn’t faithful. He’d abandoned them. Again.
“Your love is beautiful. Your love so undeserved. Your love stretches out forever to me. Your love is not contained, I see the evidence each day. Your love means all the world to me.”
As Sarah sang the chorus again Dan felt his throat thicken in protest. Right now God’s love felt far away. He’d seen Sarah’s tears, knew she felt that way too. Didn’t she? Or was this more evidence that she hadn’t wanted the baby as much as Dan had?
