He Gives More Grace

When I wanted phileo love, to be remembered and recognized and called intelligent and beautiful--You give me Your agape, the love of ageless commitment and quiet sacrifice.  It doesn't call me by any name except what I am:  Forgiven, caught up in everlasting arms and made whole.

Help me release my heart to rest in this agape love.  It's hard.  I want to earn love.  I want to be captivating, and to rest in my power to hold love as my own, purchased by my merits.  I want less grace, but You only give more grace.

I'm so afraid of losing love, if I can't buy it.  I'm afraid of not having any plausible reason for being loved.  I'm afraid of being that forsaken child, kicking in her blood, whom You looked upon in love and called her to live (Ezekiel 16).

We all know that true love is shown in the laying down of one's life for another.  No sane person would die for the unrighteous.  Maybe, just maybe, for the righteous--but never for the unrighteous.  But You show Your love by laying down your life for the lowest of the low, and with only one reason--agape love.

It frightens me to see this unreasoned love reaching out from Your Body, reaching out from my husband.  I didn't earn it.  I can't justify it.  I can't do anything to keep it.  It begs me to rest in it, though, and trust that it will always be there.

I want less grace, but You only give more grace.  I want the lesser love, but You give the greater love.  I want to be exalted, but You exalt Yourself by making Yourself nothing, asking me to bring all of my bruises and ugliness into the Holy of Holies, to eat of Your Body and drink of Your Blood.  I will come.  I will not hide from You.  I will look You fully in the face and be loved.  Give me more grace.  Give me the best of what You are, though it shows me to be the least worthy of Your love.  I will stop trying to earn it, stop begging for crumbs when You are inviting me to the table.