“Take a lingering look, drink in, and try to absorb the great love the Father has lavished on us—a love that has made us God’s beloved, forever-children.” (pp 1Jn3:1)
Dear Father, something’s going to capture our attention today. It could be irritating people, overwhelming circumstances, our football team’s victory or loss, events that anger us, or heartaches that cripple us. By your grace and faith, we choose your love as our gaze-setting preoccupation.
The sheer immensity of your love for us is staggering—even extravagant. According to your own Word, you haven’t been miserly, measured, or careful with your love. You’ve been lavish—over-the-top, immoderate, intemperate. You cannot love us more than you already do.
By your mercy and grace, you adopted us as your beloved sons and daughters. Right now—in the very moment, we already have all the legal rights and personal delights that come with being your children. We may disbelieve these grace-riches, ignore them, or squander them—but you have enriched us beyond calculation. Thank you, Father. Keep us tender, grateful, and in awe of your great love. Why?
For several reasons, not the least of which is our propensity to act like your two sons in Luke 15. Some days a hedonistic holiday looks enticing. A fling, a binge, a one-nighter. But one-nighters are eternal disasters. Equally disastrous is drifting (or jumping) into heart-freeze. The unrighteousness of self-righteousness is always lurking—especially when we look at people more than we gaze upon Jesus.
Rigid, critical, snarky, graceless, loveless… we’ve “been there, done that” too often, and we can go there again and again. Father, keep the music of the Gospel blaring within our hearing. Keep us or grab and pull us onto the dance floor of your grace again and again and again until the Day it will be impossible not to dance. So Very Amen.