When I think of the word “beloved”, I immediately think of the scripture that God says “this is my beloved son, in who I am well-pleased”. Beloved seemed like the high achievement award in life. To be someone’s beloved seems immensely special if you really think about the sentence and the words: THIS is MY BELOVED son, in whom I am WELL-PLEASED. Seems to me that God is very proud of his son Jesus and really loves him (to the moon and back).
I’ve always wanted that. Searched for that. I guess in my mind I always believed it was something you received automatically from your parents, to be beloved was to be someone’s child. Because all parents are proud and love their children, right?
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When you allow God’s view & his love for you consume your thoughts, eventually your old self gets tired of convincing you otherwise. @Grace_and_Such
There are two profound moments in my life when I truly wondered why my parents had me. They each own one of these moments. The first was a video I watched years ago of my dad building a hope chest for my birthday. The person filming was chatting with my dad and asked him to hug me and his response was, “I haven’t hugged her in 16 years, why do I wanna start now?”. And although I know that in his mind he was kidding, the words were so quickly spoken, that it was hard for me to laugh.
Because it was true. He really hadn’t. Not that I remember anyway.
In November 2009 my kids and I had flown to Texas to visit my mother. She had recently reentered my life after almost 20 years. We had a wonderful time together and I was thrilled that my kids got to meet her and have that time with her. But back to my other moment. While I was at her home my siblings showed me a plate she had. I had made it in 1978, as a second grader, the year she put me on a plane to fly alone to my grandparents. She kept it all those years which I thought was totally awesome.
Selfishly, when I saw the plate I was crushed. Through my own mom eyes I envisioned the plate framed and hanging somewhere with a shrine of her lost child surrounding it. I was very disappointed when they pulled it out of a pile of plates in the cabinet that were BEING USED. The plate had so many knife marks through it from food being eaten off it. I was sad because it just made me feel so unimportant. It validated the lie that I was unloved.
But then God stepped into my life. Not just tiptoed, I mean like stomped in and pushed me out of my own way. For most of my life I was afraid to love and be loved. Of course I did those things, loved and was loved, but I have always been one to wait for the shoe to drop and not be good enough. I’ve always left an exit door open for every relationship I’ve been in. I’m running before you chase me. But God was done with my nonsense.
There were a few dark years in between the plate and my current life. I’ve struggled alone trying to convince myself that people do like me, I can trust, people aren’t all out to hurt me. But it’s only been with the help of God. Every time I feel myself thinking I’m not enough, I call on Him to remind me that I am. And He shows me in so many ways that I am loved.
When you allow God’s view of you and his love for you consume your thoughts, eventually your old self gets tired of convincing you otherwise. I’ve made a consistent effort every single day to hear and feel what God thinks of me. Because I think I’ve finally realized that this is just a temporary place for me. What I’ve lived, what I’ve overcome and how I’ve loved despite it. God promises me in black and white, “for I know the plans I have for you”, declares the Lord “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future”. And despite what all these humans try to make you believe, you are right up there with Jesus. God’s Beloved.
Believe it. God loves you. We are all His beloved. So just Be Loved.