Ever felt such a deep love for someone that it caught you off guard? Or look at your child and think ‘I never knew I could love this much!’? Or maybe it’s ‘worry this much’. Even our irritation
as parents is often rooted in love. Our kids affect us so much because we love them so much.

While love is not a feeling, our emotions will be affected by those we love. And those we love most affect us most. By their sweetness or their rudeness. By their nearness or their absence.

Ever wonder how God feels about you? Think of what you feel for those you love most. Then multiply it by a trillion. Or become a parent. You won’t just see the heart of God. You’ll feel it.

I love my kids more than I realize. There’s a love in me for them buried so deep, I lose sight of it. Until a memory or event flips a switch and a dam breaks. Releasing a flashflood of emotion.

I’ll never forget the day we took our daughter to college. And then drove home. Without her. Maybe it’s because Stacey’s our firstborn or just because I love her so much but I never knew it would be so painful. I missed her long before we took that trip and long after we returned.

I was finally starting to adjust to her absence when I read a story by Bob Benson in his book ‘Come share the being’. He describes the day he took his son to college. (Thanks a lot Bob!)

“Nearly a year ago, Peg and I had a very hard week.

Wednesday Night: Mike slept downstairs in his room, where children belong. And we slept upstairs in our bedroom, where moms and dads belong.

Thursday Night: We were 350 miles away from home. He was in Ramada 325 and we were in 323, connecting rooms. With the door open, we talked and laughed together a long time.

Friday Night: 700 miles from home, and he was in Room 247 and we were in 239, but it was just down the balcony, and somehow we still seemed together.

Saturday Night: He was in the freshman dorm. We were in Room 239. It was getting harder.

Sunday Night: We were home, and he was 700 miles away in Chapman 309.

Now, we’ve been through this before. Bob Jr. had gone off to college, and we had gathered ourselves together until we finally came to terms with it – mainly because he’s married now and lives ten miles away, and he visits often with Deb and little Robert III. So we thought we knew how to handle separation pretty well. But we still came away too lonely and blue.

Oh, our hearts were filled with pride at this fine young man, and our minds were filled with memories from tricycles to commencements, but deep down inside somewhere, we just ached with loneliness and pain.

Somebody said, “You still have three at home!” Three fine kids, and still plenty of noise; plenty of games to go to; plenty of responsibilities; plenty of laughter; plenty of everything. Everything except Mike. And in parental math, five minus one just doesn’t equal plenty.”

After I read this, all I wanted is a dark room and a pillow to hide my tears in. I missed 'my girl'!
No one can take Stacey’s place in my heart. No one. Not my wife. Nor my other children who I love just as deeply. But my sorrow was not because of any unresolved issue in our friendship.
I wept simply because we have a friendship. A close one. I missed her. That’s all there is to it.

I wanted to stop reading. But Bob wasn’t done. Once I could see through my tears, I read on.
After being reminded of what my kids mean to me, Bob reminded me of what I mean to God.
Because of his next words and my raw emotions, I not only saw what God feels for us. I felt it.

Bob had everything but Mike, yet 'in parental math, five minus one just doesn’t equal plenty.”
Then he said "And I started thinking about God. He sure has plenty of children – plenty of artists and singers and carpenters and candlestick makers and preachers – plenty of everybody

And all of them put together can never take your place. There will always be an empty place in his heart – and a vacant chair at his table – if you are not home. And if once in a while it feels like he is crowding you a bit – getting pushy or fussy – try to forgive him. It may be one of those nights when he misses you so much he can just hardly stand it.”

He feels this way about you! When He’s crowding you and when it seems He's forgotten you.
I assume He doesn’t care if I don’t see His hand. But circumstances never tell the whole story.
Parents can say no for the child’s sake yet be accused of not caring at all. We do it to God too.

Some say God is unaffected by anything. Or anyone. Yet He called Himself a father. A groom. As parents made in His image, our hearts offer a hint as to what’s in His. No parent can love a child like He loves His and be unaffected by them. Nor do all He did for His bride and not feel.

Leaving Stacey was hard, yet I want her to follow her dream and her God. Who I trust with her care. So why was I an emotional wreck? One reason. Our home isn't the same if Stacey’s not in it. I agree with Bob. In ‘parental math, five minus one doesn’t equal plenty’. It’s still ‘minus one’.

There is a place in your heart for God alone. A place no one except God Himself can fill. But there’s also a place in His heart for you. And at His table. A place that no one but you can fill.

Growing up, I wondered how God could love me with all my sin, my weakness and my ‘stuff’. Then I had a child. And I understood. With a 2nd child on the way, I thought ‘How will I ever love another child as much as I love Stacey?’ Then Bryce was born. And I understood! When Cherish arrived, I fell in love all over again! And still today I love all of them as much as I love each of them. As a Dad, I now can see how God can love each of us in a deeply personal way.

You matter to God! Why? He’s a father! Who loves each of us as much as He loves any of us.
Is it even possible? Jesus said the Father loves you as much as He loves His own son. Jn.17:23

I’ve heard this a lot. Yet like Israel, I find it far easier to believe in His indifference than His love.

Despite the declaration in vs. 13 that God comforts His people and has compassion on them,
that’s not how Israel sees God. They think He’s forsaken them. Their God has forgotten them.

Ever heard the declaration that God loves you yet felt like it’s true for everyone except you?
Why is that? There could be many reasons. The shame of our sin makes it hard to believe it. The pain of unanswered prayer. Unexplained tragedy. Unresolved issues. Unrealized dreams. It can make it hard for me to believe I'm loved. At least in the personal way I'm told He loves.

But this week I heard another reason which I can relate to even more than those mentioned. Nancy once told her pastor Blaine Smith why she resisted giving her life to Christ for so long. She said it was simply because God’s love seemed too universal to her. Here’s what she said.

God made this beautiful earth for your pleasure. So you and 7.5 billion others can feel special!

Blaine says the way we talk about God can imply there’s no uniqueness in our relationship with Him. ‘We speak of Him loving everyone, loving them equally, impartially, the same way.’ That’s great but the problem is we crave individuality. We long to be originals not copies. Not only in our work. But in our relationships. We want to be loved with an exclusive kind of love. 

I want to know I’m special to my Dad in a way no one else is. That He treasures me in a way He treasures no one else. The love we share is ours alone. I matter to Him in a way that's unique.
But isn’t that a lot to expect of a father with so many children? Is exclusive love even possible?
Listen to what God says to those who think He’s forgotten them. Or assume He doesn't notice.

Notice that God shows Israel what His heart is like by comparing Himself to a nursing mother.
No one can love a child quite like her mother. She can love that girl in a way no one else could. Not even Dad. You'd expect her to love her child more than any other child. Unless the other child is hers too. Moms can somehow love all her kids as much as she loves each. So can God.

But I must clarify what I don’t mean. God loves all of us and each of us. But He doesn't love all of us the same exact way. Lisa Bevere said ‘God does not love us equally. He loves us uniquely. To love us the same would mean we're replaceable.' Not special. Our absence wouldn't matter.

She also said “Each of us are fashioned uniquely. And we are loved uniquely. When that second, third or fourth child is born, your love is not divided. It multiplies. Your love for each child is unique. Each child awakens your parental love in a different way. Interestingly you may love something unique about one child that is the opposite trait of what you love in another.”

That’s what God's like. He loves the world and every soul He created to live in it. Exclusively.
The Scriptures are full of stories where God takes notice of individuals that no one else sees.

The Lord found Hagar alone in the wilderness. She called Him ‘the God who sees me’. Gen. 16
God said of David “I have found David the son of Jesse, a man after mine own heart". Acts 13
Jesus noticed a poor widow with a meager offering. Behind the gift He saw her heart. Luke 21
Jesus called Himself a shepherd who ‘calls His own sheep by name and leads them out’. Jn. 10
Jesus heard that they threw a man out of the synagogue. So He went looking for him. Jn 9:35
There’s more joy in heaven over ONE sinner who repents than 99 who don’t need to. Lk.15:7

As God engraved the law on stone so it's permanent, He said He's done this with our names. 
He has made a permanent record of our names in a place He’ll always be reminded of us. His hands. Inscribed with nails. Written in blood. Most parents have photos of their kids in a wallet or phone. Why? Behind each face is a child we deeply love. It's why we love to see their faces.

This story makes me look egotistical. But since I am, why not? I saw a glorious sunset one night and thought “God painted this sunset just for me!” But a voice said ‘Seriously Jack! You really think you're that special?’ I said 'Yes!' Then me, myself and I argued over who is God’s favorite. While secretly doubting what I wanted to believe, I recalled a statement made by Dick Bolles.
 
He said that if a truth is universally true for all of us, it's no less individually true for each of us. If He made the world for 'our' enjoyment, He also made it for 'my' enjoyment. And for 'yours'.  If God loves all of us, it doesn’t mean He can’t love each of us as much as He loves His own Son.

Reflection: I have other stories of how God loved me in unique ways. But so do you. And you need yours more than mine. Revisit your God stories. As you do, recall the details we so easily forget. How would life be different had it not happened? I think you’ll see God in the details. You'll see you were on His mind. Why? You're in His heart. He has a place in there just for you.

God still loves me! Though He has every reason not to. As I shared in my last post, His mercy is what woke me out of a coma of apathy, over-familiarity and indifference. So why did I start caring again? He wouldn’t stop caring! For a man who didn’t care!
 
How can He care for one who doesn't care about Him? Makes no sense. In my head. But hearts see what heads can't. Seeing the love in His heart is what woke up mine. To a selfish heart like mine, no view is more astonishing than the selfless love of God.

But I never would have treasured this love had I not seen my indifference to it. And how it affects God. In Jeremiah 2, God's heart is breaking over Israel's loss of awe and loss of love for Him. Both of which I too had lost. So I too had broken His heart.

God's not only appalled over Israel’s idolatry (v.10ff), but also her lack of awe (v.19). In fact, He calls her idolatry and loss of awe ‘evil’. So is God insecure? An egomaniac whose idea of evil is not telling Him He’s awesome? Why is our loss of awe so ‘evil’?

Notice He says ‘how evil and bitter it is for you to have no awe of me’. His plea is for their sake. ‘Evil’ means ‘bad’. ‘Bitter’ means ‘disappointing’. Without awe, life goes ‘bad’. It disappoints us. Rabbi Heschel said ‘life without wonder is not worth living.’ Before I felt indifferent, I felt very frustrated. I think it’s because I rarely felt fascinated.

It seems like God is more concerned about our loss of love and awe than we are? My apathy troubled Him long before it did me. And a lot more than it troubled me. The inverse is also true. My being fascinated means more to God that it does to me.

It makes me wonder what He felt in His heart in those first days after creating man.  What was He doing as Adam and Eve explored their new home? I think He did what parents do on Christmas morning. While the kids are looking at their presents, Dad and Mom are looking at the kids. And their faces light up with joy when their kids do.

Last Christmas, my grandson Miles entered our decorated living room and stopped. With eyes opened as wide as his mouth, all he could say is ‘Wow!’.  Over and over.  Few moments in life are sweeter than watching a child overcome with astonishment.

On the flip side, it’s a sad day when your child loses that wide-eyed wonder. Since the feeling of wide-eyed wonder fades slowly, rarely do our kids notice it’s absence. But we do. When a child loses their sense of awe, it's Mom and Dad who feel it most.

This loss is more tragic than we know. Especially for God. He has to watch our hearts  lose their capacity for wonder. A gift He gave us. A gift that makes other gifts more precious and points us back to the Giver. No one grieves our loss of awe like Father.

As for the awe God refers to in v. 19, it’s not just a generic sense of awe and wonder. What Israel lost is their awe of God. Their view of Him changed. Though He had not.

Think of how you'd feel if someone close to you changed how they feel about you. My grandsons love their 'Papa'. I just walk in the house and they celebrate my entry. Which I've pointed out to my wife. Hoping she'll take a hint and ‘go and do likewise’. I feel loved when those I love enjoy my presence and want me close. Same with God.

But how would I feel if they just stopped loving me? Or avoid me or just tolerate me? Or won’t trust me? What makes this pain worse is my love for them hasn’t changed. For God, it’s not hypothetical. He feels it daily. He loves all of us. But many of us don’t love Him. Nor want His love. The one who loves us most.  We want love. Just not His.

If you rejected me, I’d be hurt. But I’d bury my pain and grieve in silence. Not God. He’ll seek you out, look you in the eye and cut to the chase. “What fault did your fathers find in me that they strayed so far from me?” v.5 This is no insecure God in need of your approval. Saying “What’s wrong with me?  Why don’t you like me?”

This is a friend whose devotion hasn’t wavered. You may be fine with the distance between you. He’s not. Never will be. So He asks, “What fault do you find in me?” He's not being defensive. But we never reject a friend without a reason. Usually, it’s because we feel unloved or wounded. He wants to talk it out. Aa any friend would.

Not that He doesn’t see your heart. But you don’t. Not really. But if you’ll look Him in the heart and speak from yours. As to why you’ve turned away, you’ll know your heart better. And His. For whatever your reason is, in His response to you, you'll feel loved.

So if He loves me so much, why don’t I feel it? Why don't I love Him? And if He’s so awesome, why am I bored? Can I recover my awe of God? My love for God? Yes. But not by myself. It takes two to fall in love. The more I see of you, the more I love you. If I'm to love God again, I must see Him again. Which is what He's wants. But how do I?

"I will give you shepherds after my heart, who will lead you with knowledge and understanding”. (v.15) Understanding of what? His heart. Which makes sense to me. Nothing lights a fire in my heart like understanding His. Why? I was made for God. The only thing that will ever satisfy the deep cry in my heart is reconnecting with His.

He knows this. Until we discover His heart for us, our hearts will be ever searching yet never finding. So He raises up shepherds with His heart. Who see us like He sees us.

If He asked my opinion, I’d say ‘Scratch that plan. It’ll just backfire’. Why? There are no shepherds with hearts like His. Not on this planet. Even the purest among us are sinful, proud and selfish. Every man we find in Scriptures is unqualified. So is every man He used to write them. Man is no longer like God! How can we represent Him?

But I’d be wrong. There is one man with a heart like His. Fully man. Fully God. Sinless. Who can turn selfish men into selfless shepherds. With hearts that love like He loves.
He is Jesus, the Son of God. He has His Father’s heart and intends us to have it too. 

What’s God’s response to a loveless bride? Raise up shepherds with a heart like His. But how can He use us? We're sinners! Yes. But we're also loved, forgiven, filled with His Spirit. We're also shaped on a potter’s wheel, refined in the fire of testing until one day we emerge with hearts like His. Loving like He loves. Loving those He loves.

Sadly there are shepherds who don't reflect Jesus at all. Or well meaning shepherds who because of lack of integrity wound us. Don't form your view of God by what you see in them. But by what you see in His Son. As leaders, we are to reflect the one we follow. But we often don't. So measure us by what you see in Jesus. Not vice versa.

Unlike fickle friends, our change of heart doesn't change His. It’s why I trust His heart. I also want His heart. I know it’s impossible. Yet His disciples were sinful and weak like me. Seeing Jesus give men like me a heart like His gives me hope. “Change me too Lord! Make me a shepherd after your heart! So others can look at me and see you.”

There’s another way God responds to His children when our hearts grow indifferent.

He pleads with us. ‘Return faithless people! I am your husband.’ Jer. 3:14 Jeremiah is full of cries to ‘Repent!’. We often associate calls to repent with angry judgment. Yes He warns us of judgment to come if we don’t repent or turn. But it’s a father’s cry to a son rushing for a cliff. Seeing the cliff, how can a father not cry 'Stop! Turn around!'?

Most of us wouldn’t bother pleading with a friend once their heart's grown hard. At least not for long. How do you keep loving someone who does not want your love? Yet God just can't stop chasing us or pleading with us. Why? He can’t stop loving us.

Have you taken God for granted lately? Have you lost your first love? Your awe of God?
 
I don’t ask this to make you feel guilty. Nor do I assume you’ve lost your fire. And yet it’s worth the risk to ask. For just like carbon monoxide, apathy can lull your soul into deep sleep before you know it. Everything seems OK. Yet your heart's in code blue. With hypothermia, drowsiness is dangerous! To sleep is to die. You need to wake up!
 
It's why your Father won't stop pleading. "Fight this indifference! Don’t settle for a disengaged heart!" If I find you in the snow, succumbing to hypothermia, I will do all I can to get you dry and warm. You will plead with me to let you sleep. Which I won’t. I will plead with you to wake up, pull until you do and get you to a fire. Or make one.

Why is God always pleading with us to come closer? Because we are made for Him. The heat my soul needs most is the heat of His presence. The warmth of His love. I am a furnace made to burn. Not just with passion. With God Himself. He’s my fire. Without His presence and love, I am the man in the snow. Dying for the lack of a fire.

I can think of many setbacks in my life that God used to wake me from my slumber. I didn’t appreciate it then. But I’m deeply grateful now. Each setback pulled me closer.

‘I’m sinful’ I say. Another excuse for not coming to God. In mercy, He says ‘Come anyway’.
I say ‘I’m weak’. Yet He leaves me weak so I feel my need. Again, my need pulls me closer.

‘I’ve lost the hunger’. If you find indifference growing in you, don’t let it be a reason to avoid God. Let it be the burning bush that pulls you to Him. Once we see our sin, we tend to do what Peter did in Luke 5. We turn away from God instead of to Him.

And as we turn our hearts away, we think He has too. He hasn’t. He never turns away. He's not a shepherd who keeps going if we stray or run away. He comes back for us.

You can forget Him altogether. But He can't forget you! You are ever on His mind. Why?

He's a Father who loves you. Always has. Always will. Even if your mind is distracted and your heart divided. Do you no longer love Him? It doesn't affect His love for you. In fact, His eyes are on you now. And His father heart is moved by you just as you are.

What's sad is you can believe He loves you, yet remain indifferent. By taking His love for granted. If so, I'll borrow Petra's lyrics and plead with you 'Don't let your heart be hardened! Don't let your love grow cold'. You lose what matters if you lose your love.
                                                                        
Others see their apathy and never change because they think about God but never talk to Him. A marriage book can't do what a good heart to heart can. If your desire is gone, speak to Him. From your heart. And let Him speak to you. From His. He will!

If there’s trouble in your love life, it’s your lover you need to hear from. And talk to. What both hearts needs is a heart to heart. It's how you first fell in love. You saw each other's heart. So it's that heart you need to see again. The heart you fell in love with.

So how do we have this heart to heart? How do we connect at a heart level? Words. I
tell you what's in my heart through words. And you see my heart as you hear my words. Same with God. He conveys His heart with words.  I see His heart as I hear His words. So if you want to hear from God, be in His Word. It's the primary way He talks to us.

So if His words convey His heart, what is it in His heart that He so wants to convey? The same thing a man tries to convey when he gets down on one knee with a ring. The same message a mom hopes to convey to her children every day of their lives.

"I love you.  For better for worse.  Regardless.   Come what may.   Forever."

It's that kind of love that sets hearts on fire. Not only the beloved’s. The lover’s too. And the matches that most effectively light such a fire are the well-chosen words of the lover.

The word God chose to convey His love for man became a man. Who came with a message: 'I love you'. The message became a man and a man became the message.

One reason His word is like a fire is because God is a fire. A fire of love. Every word from His mouth is inspired by love and conveys love. Even His words of judgment. Our hearts need His words like our bodies need bread. Why? Our hearts need God.

I need a fire to catch on fire. So if your fire is out, get near His. Have a heart to heart.

Reflection: If you were to have a heart to heart with God, what's on your heart to say?

I don’t ask this to make a point. It’s not theoretical for me. My fire still goes out. My heart’s fickle. Prone to wander. So I ask: Will my change in heart change His?

While my question isn’t theoretical, sometimes it feels like the answer is. For I know what Scripture says. God will always love me. Regardless. And I believe it.

Sorta. At least my head does. But my heart has its doubts. Feels too good to be true. Mercy comes free. But not easy. My ego fights it and my guilty conscience tells me I shouldn’t receive a gift I don’t deserve. Whether from God or people.

You can forgive me and tell me so. Yet I’m ‘sure’ you’re as disappointed in me as I am. Same with God. I tell myself He sees me as I do. Yet I seldom let Him speak  
for Himself or believe Him when He does. I hold to my opinion based on a guess.

But with friends, I don’t want to guess. It always backfires. It hurts people and ruins friendships. Either I assume you don’t care when in fact you do and always did.  Or I assume all is well between us when it’s not. Better to ask than guess. I want to know you for who you actually are. Not who I hope or assume you are.  

Still, it’s so easy to assume I know how you feel. About me and our relationship. Why does it matter? Because it’s just as easy to be wrong. Especially with God.

While sedated by apathy, I was oblivious to how my indifference affected God. So He told me. One day my reading plan took me to Jer. 2. Even in apathy, I still read the Bible. Though I didn’t expect Him to speak. But He did. My daily ritual suddenly felt very personal. As if I had stumbled on my friend’s private journal.  In which he opens up his wounded heart. Knowing I’m the one who wounded it.

Jeremiah 2 is a love letter. It broke my heart to read it. As it broke His to write it.

I tried to see Israel’s idolatry and apathy from God’s point of view. Instead I saw mine. It hurt to see how I’d lost my first love. Even more to see its effect on Him.  
God writes as a grieving husband who remembers the devoted love of his bride.

“I remember the devotion of your youth, how as a bride you loved me + followed me”. v. 2 “What fault did your ancestors find in me that they strayed so far from me? v. 5 “They did not ask, “Where is the Lord?” v. 6 “Does a bride forget her wedding dress? Yet my people have forgotten me days without number.” v. 32

God is grieving a loss. A loss of love. This isn’t self-pity, insecurity or feeling sorry for Himself. It’s a groom so in love with his bride that the loss of her love has left him inconsolable. A father who misses his child. Crying ‘I can’t bear to lose you!’
 
There are many ways to lose you. I lose you if you die. But also if you leave me. I lose you if you stay but your heart leaves. I lose you if you aren’t ‘with me’ when you’re with me. If I hear your words but not your heart, I lose you. If I feel your touch but never your love, I lose you. And since I love you, it hurts to lose you.   

The more I love you, the more loss hurts. God’s grief is deep because His love is.
 
Yet I rarely linger in a text if God is mad or sad. I can’t deal with those emotions.  I’ll sympathize with you. Yet with God, I can’t listen long. But don’t tell Him. I do understand why sin makes Him mad and sad. And I feel bad if I make Him either. Yet I think ‘Can we move on? Cuz if not, I’m moving on to a psalm. A happy one.’
 
Yet as much as I wanted to skip Jer. 2, I couldn’t. And I’m glad I didn’t. For what I saw in this love letter woke me out of my slumber. I saw my heart. Then I saw His.

I have asked God for years to show me His heart. Yet each time I ask, guess what He does? He shows me mine! What’s up with that? Don’t tell Him this either, but I don’t like it! Why must I see me? I see enough of me as it is. I want to see God!

The other reason I don’t like it is that He always shows me the me I actually am. I don’t like that view of me. I like the me I think I am or the me others think I am.

Jer. 2 showed me me. But why must I look at my heart when I want to see His?

Then I thought of Matt. 5:8. ‘Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God’. And I realized why He examines my heart so closely. And why He shows me me. It’s the same reason eye doctors examine eyes. It’s with ‘the eyes of my heart’ I see God. So He looks for what blurs my vision. Why? To remove it. So I can see!
It changed my prayer. ‘Purify my heart Lord. Do what it takes for me to see you.’ 

There’s another reason He shows me my heart before His. I can’t appreciate His mercy until I see the depth of my sin. My pride leaves me in awe of His humility.  The reason I'm stunned by His desire for me is that I know my indifference to Him.

God’s deep devotion to us is most beautiful when seen against the backdrop of our lack of devotion to Him. Like a rose among thorns. A cardinal on a snowbank.

His grief over the distance between us says He cares about ‘us’ far more than I.  

If you lose interest or pull away, I tend to do the same. I give up if you do. Why? Because deep down I’m not sure I’m worth fighting for. So if you leave, I ‘get it’. 
Once I read your diary of how I broke your heart, I grieve. But why don’t I run to you, pour out my regret and ask for mercy? Because of a lie that says ‘I deserve rejection. You should give up on me’. So I yield to the lie and leave before you do.

I do this to God. It’s my default response when I see my sin. But He won’t let go. Even when I do. After showing me my heart in Jer 2, He showed me His in Jer 3. 

Want to know what God feels like when He sees you? Think of your own child. Yes, the feeling of love can dissipate in the heat of their defiance or your stress. 
But you can’t deny the deep unforced love that can flood your heart for a child. 

Especially when it’s yours. You see the beauty inside them that others can’t see.  You see potential others don’t. You find delight in all they do and in all they are.  
Even as they break your heart. Ask any mother. Wounded hearts still bleed love.

Is the one who made us like this less loving than we are? Has He really stopped loving me because I stop loving Him? I don’t think so. Why? Listen to what else God says in v. 19. It’s His response to His children after they stopped loving Him.

You can feel His heart in His words. It’s breaking. His own child doesn’t love Him.
Ever want your child to love you back but they don’t? Not an easy feeling to live with. Much less love with. It’s hard to not respond likewise. By not responding.

Yet His love is a love that keeps loving even when I give Him every reason not to. Mercy was my wake-up call to stir me from the deep slumber of over-familiarity.
I started caring again because He wouldn’t stop caring. For a child who didn’t care!

Seeing the love in His heart is what woke up mine. Seeing how He feels when I didn’t feel much for Him served to shock my heart awake. I began feeling again.  

Refection Question:
Do you ever pull away from God because you think He's pulled away from you?

NEXT POST:  What does God feel when I don't?  (Part 2)
Other ways God is using Jeremiah to wake up my emotions by showing me His.

I officiated the funeral of a single mother whose son shared this memory. As a boy he was intimidated by a bully. His mother did her best to teach her son courage. She’d tell him “You’re bigger than he is! Get in his face! Tell him to leave! He will!”
 
But he couldn’t do it. He’d run inside whenever the bully showed up. One day she locked the door. Despite his plea, she refused to open it. She said "You know what to do. Now do it!". So he did. To his surprise, the bully ran off and never returned. 

Weeks before she died, he said “Mom, do you remember the bully?” “I never forgot” she said. He replied “What I remember is you locking me out! Why didn't you let me in?” She said “Because it was the only way you would face your fears.”

"What I remember is this. As you pounded on the door, begging me to let you in, I was right on the other side. My hand on the lock. My head on the door. Weeping.”

I think of this mother a lot. Especially when life feels unfair. In an earlier post, I told of being forced out of a job for confronting a wrong. My cautions were later confirmed. So why did I lose my job if I did the right thing? I still don’t understand.
 
The only thing I do understand is that I don’t understand His ways. Especially in hard times. Yet that’s when I tend to accuse His heart. The God I once trusted now seems unfair. Life’s unwanted setbacks have a way of reshaping your view of God.

And yet if I don’t understand His ways, how can I be sure I'm right about His heart?
 
As a boy, this scared kid could not understand why his mother would lock him out. What child would? I can see why he felt it was cruel. I feel for him. But even more so for Mom. Imagine her pain if her son views her act of love as cruel or uncaring.

Has anyone ever misjudged you? Made assumptions about you that aren't true? 
Accused you of motives you don't have? Or intentions that you never thought of?
I hate it when I'm accused of feeling what I don't feel. And yet I often do it to God.

Especially if He doesn’t show up or at least speak up. His silence feels like absence if I’m in a crisis. I'll pray even more yet hear nothing back. So prayer turns into a rant. Where I say stuff to God I can't repeat. Yet I know He still listens. So I still rant.

I lost that job 25 years ago. I still don't know why. Sure I know the Biblical reasons for unanswered prayer. Yet the best answers fall on deaf ears if I'm outside a door and it’s my own father locking me out. The one person that I thought I could trust.

Many years later, I'll still find myself outside the door. Screaming “Open the door! As in now! Not in ‘the fullness of time’ please!” I still rant. But there’s one thing I don’t do as much as I did.  I no longer draw the same conclusions about His heart.

Like a son who finds his mother weeping behind a locked door, I found a Father who cares more for me than I'll ever know. Being a father opens your eyes. It's not easy for Dads to train sons to be men. As sons we often resent the training and the trainer. And what's involved in training? Things like bullies. Locked doors. Silence.

I am a paradox. On one hand, I'm so grateful for life lessons learned the hard way.
Yet just yesterday, I got so mad at God for not removing a weakness I’ve prayed for and worked on for years. Then I realized my weakness is often the only thing keeping me on my knees. And my greatest need is to feel my deep need of God.

Another reason I don’t judge His heart as much as I used to is that I too have been wrongly judged. If I love you, nothing hurts more than your refusal to believe I do.

Before you judge my motives, let me speak for my own heart. It’s a courtesy we all want. So why are many of us so reluctant to give it to God? Usually it’s because a bully's in the yard, the door is locked and He won't let us in. His refusal speaks for itself. So we say. It proves what He's like. Cruel. Insensitive. He's become the bully.

Yet as a parent, here’s what I feel when I have to ‘lock the door’. “I love you. But when you can’t believe it, you’re not the only one in pain. You see a locked door and assume I don’t love you. I locked it because I do. But you don’t see my love. Nor my tears. You hurt because you think I don’t love you. I hurt because I do.”  

I'm not a good judge of a person's heart. I'll convince myself God is disappointed in me. Only to have Him stun me with kindness.  Or I judge a person's motive and learn they're far more noble than I. And the most noble of all is the most merciful. Refusing to shame me while I deserve it. And so kind though I judge Him unfairly.

One of the reasons I misunderstand God's heart is because I misunderstand His judgments. It's hard to endure the steady flow of woes and warnings found in the prophets. The list of sorrows awaiting the wicked feels endless. And the God who thought it up sounds heartless. Sure they have it coming, but must He be so cruel?

So I find myself skimming or skipping whatever I don't like. Yet that's like telling you I only want to know the side of you I'm comfortable with. To ignore His words is to miss His heart. So I asked God to show me His heart in the parts I tend to skip. As I watch the way God judges men. I realize I have erred in my judgment of Him.

Example: I never knew how much God loved Moab until I watched Him judge her. The only reason I even read Jeremiah 48 is that my reading plan told me to. One of many chapters I tend to skip. All this hellfire and brimstone fury is too much for my tender soul. It's unsettling! Why? It messes up my view of God as a loving Dad.

I can’t stand cruel bullies or angry parents who scream at children. Yet God sure sounds that way in the judgment chapters. Jeremiah 48 is a scorching rebuke of proud Moab. With graphic descriptions of all the punishment awaiting her. I read on, hoping to find some hope. All I found is judgment. So where’s the love God?

I do realize Moab is receiving the judgment they brought on themselves. They are
evil, cruel, arrogant and given to idolatry. I get why their judgment must be fierce.
But when justice rolls down like a mighty river, what follows is a river of tears. Not
only from the evil ringleaders. But from their wives, their children and the aged.

For the compassionate soul, even if a sinner’s judgment is deserved, it’s still painfully hard to watch. As I read the punishments awaiting Moab, my heart began to break. And doubt seeped in the cracks. How can a good Father be this severe? 
I found myself wanting to throw my Bible at the wall and scream ‘Who are you?!?’

‘Moab will be destroyed as a nation because she defied the Lord’. God must judge evil. I get that. But His eagerness to punish her troubles my sensitive soul. ‘Terror and pit and snare await you, you people of Moab’, declares the Lord. ‘Whoever flees from the terror will fall into a pit, whoever climbs out of the pit will be caught in a snare; for I will bring on Moab the year of her punishment.” Jer. 48:42-44

Two prayers came to mind as I read Jer 48. 1st: “Can I read Psalms 23 instead?”
2nd: “Seriously God, if you want the world to know you’re a God of love, threats of violence and judgment are not the best way to win friends and influence people.
I know they’re not your chosen people. But they are people. Made in your image.”

I know better, but here's what I felt as I read. “So what this tells me is that you’ll show mercy to your chosen people and anyone who will love you back. But for sinners who don’t love you, they can just go to hell since that’s what they deserve."

I said I wouldn't skim or skip but my anger intensified as I pushed ahead. Listen to
His choice of words in v. 26. 'Let Moab wallow in her vomit. Let her be an object of ridicule.' I’m sure it can be explained,yet it still feels cruel. As if He delights in their misery. It’s a harsh accusation and I’m sure I’m wrong. This is just how it felt to me.

Then I read v. 31. I was shocked. Like slamming into a car you never saw. My idea of God slammed into God Himself. And I realized: He is not who I thought He was.

I didn't see it coming. Like a son who never imagined his Mom might be weeping.
Why is God weeping? Moab's ‘joy and gladness are gone’. The ‘sound of their cry rises’. His heart is breaking as Moab endures the blast of His judgment. I thought of this Mom, weeping over the fear that paralyzes her son and now his view of her.

And in v. 36 ‘Therefore my heart moans for Moab like a flute’. Why? Because ‘On all the roofs in Moab and in the public squares there is nothing but mourning’. The cry of Moab has reached His ears and His heart. ‘How shattered she is! How they wail! How Moab turns her back in shame! Moab has become an object of ridicule’. v. 39

What He said will happen did. She's an object of ridicule. And it makes God weep. I was angry at the anger of a hard judge. But what fuels his anger is a father's love. He never wanted this! He finds no joy in the verdict or the sentence. Even with Moab, a heathen nation. At the sight of her downfall , His heart is the first to break.
 
If a Scripture made me question God's love, I'd skip it or skim it. The problem is: I made assumptions about His heart without hearing Him out. My assumptions were wrong! God grieves over the very pain He allows and the doors He locks. And when He must bring judgment due to our sin, it breaks His heart. Ezek.33:11

When I picture this Mom leaning against the door weeping, I weep. For how often do I find a door locked and accuse God of cruelty? In this Mom, I catch a glimpse of God's heart. I am most loved by the very person whose love I question most.

My idea of a loving father? One who chases bullies away and never locks the door.
And if He does lock it, I often question His love. Is He even affected by my crisis? 
Yes! In fact, He's so affected by it, He's weeping behind the very door He's locked.

Question for reflection: Are you at a locked door that God won't open? Do you question His love? Ask Him to at least open the door of His heart and tell you why.
Yes, He may not speak. But give Him a chance to. Then get in His Word and listen.

Excerpts: ‘He who watches over Israel will not slumber or sleep.’ Ps 121
My head knows God watches over me. Why can’t my heart rest in that?
Why these anxious thoughts? As if finding the 'solution' will let me rest.
Yet my head hasn’t offered any solution that my heart is willing to trust.

Even God offers no ‘solutions’. He offers Himself. And His watchful care.
He knows what keeps me up. And if it matters to me, it matters to Him.
His eyes are on me. Are mine on Him? He notices me. Do I notice Him?

In the last post, I looked at our need for ‘love with skin on’. A need we all feel. Like hunger, we notice it most when it's not met. Or if we lose a love we once had. God is acutely aware of this need. As He gave it to us.

He knows how a loss affects our hearts. It affects His too. Unlike Hannah’s husband, God doesn't say ‘Am I not enough?’ when He finds us weeping. He weeps with us.

What makes loss so painful is the deep sense of my loved one’s absence. Like a deep ache in my bones, it won't leave. A Grand Canyon size hole in my heart. I try to navigate around it every day. But even the path around it is a virtual mine field. For anything can trigger a new wave of grief. A song. A smell. A memory. A photo.