P.D.A

Long Time, No Read…Sorry about that. hahaha

*Before you laugh at that cringey title, hear me out.*

Over the years, I can recall on many occasions people telling me, “Jesus loves you.” I heard it all the time growing up, from the children’s song to the Sunday school classroom, to messages in youth group, to lessons in church services. It was something I grew up having the privilege of hearing often. Through meeting people in the last 8 months who have never heard this spoken over them, my heart grew heavy, and I was faced with conviction; I have been in a place of knowing this truth all my life and still second-guessing it at times—even after knowing that I have experienced His love countless times. 

In Romania, He lavished His love heavily on me. Funny enough, that was the word He gave me for that country before I got there. Little did I know that He was going to teach me what love was. From little PDA moments when walking on the streets and seeing a yellow flower, to having a piano in every country, to giving me a song in each country, to the bracelets (my FAV story); these are like little kisses on the forehead from Jesus to me. He loves me enough to be my parent—like a parent who chooses to love his child who is throwing a fit in the middle of a store, acting like a fool, flailing like a fish out of water—He does not walk away, implicating to those watching, “that is not my kid.” He knows how to discipline in love, and He will gladly take your hand and still let people see that you are His. 

He is not embarrassed by me. He wants the world to know I am His and He is mine. His love for me is publicly displayed and He is NOT afraid for people to see how much He loves me. 

After my time in Honduras, where I felt angry with God and refused to spend time with Him, the enemy tried to convince me through guilt and shame that I was unworthy to sit in the Father’s presence. The last few months as we were physically isolating due to quarantine (roughly six weeks); I had isolated myself spiritually and emotionally from my community and the Lord. I had fallen into a place that was VERY toxic and I did not want to choose in at all anymore. I wanted to be alone; I was throwing a pity party at the feet of Jesus. What I see now is that He stood there and let me throw my fit, and He still claimed me as His daughter when I got up and let Him brush me off. Even in my mess, even in my ugly, He chose to love me. That is love. 

Why did I still allow the enemy to plant seeds of doubt and lies that Jesus would not want to spend time with me after I refused to choose Him for so long? I found myself asking many questions, which then led to being in communication with Him again. I cannot even begin to explain the peace that came with choosing Him over the frustration of the circumstance that was readily available. 

Why have I not been able to take His word for what it is? Scripture tells us that His word never returns void (Isaiah 55:11). Why has it been so challenging to trust Him when He proves this truth to me over and over? If He says He loves me, and He not only said it, but He acted upon His love for me by showing the most public display of affection known to mankind by sacrificing Himself on a cross, who am I to allow the lies of the enemy to tell me the marks I have personally missed define the amount of love He has for me? 

He reminded me repeatedly in Romania that I have had a hard time believing He loves me as much as He says He does. In my human nature, I am incapable of understanding the infinite amount of love He has for me. I also learned that I have often placed my heart in hands that are not steady enough to hold it, and this has caused my trust in God’s love to waiver. I now know and fully trust that the creator of my heart knows best how to guard it and give it the care it needs. When we arrived in Romania, I was not in a good head or heart space; being in isolation for six weeks had put me in a hard place. I found myself saying, “Lord how do you still love me when..?” Selfishly, I had found myself in a pity party because I was not “able to do ministry” how I thought it needed to be done. Who am I to define what glorifies the Father the most? Why did I not take this precious time to fill my cup by spending more time with the Lord? What if ministry sometimes looks like sitting in a hotel room with the freedom to call friends back home who are struggling, checking in on squadmates who are separated from us and having to go through hard things, or praying with/for our leadership team, knowing they are just as worn out and tired as the rest of us? Looking back, I can see that the Lord was loving me HARD. He was giving me a space to love my community before I tried to love the locals. My time in Romania WRECKED me in every good way possible. The definition of love that I had was demolished because I have had a very tainted view of love.

Friend, the things you have done cannot limit how much He loves you. You will never be able to make Him not love you. Receive His love and walk in the truth that you are loved by a Father whose love knows no limits. I have constantly battled in moments when people have asked me questions that bring human logic of cause-and-effect into play: “Are you sure?”, “Does He really?”, “How could He love me if I have done…?”, “Why would He love me when…?” But even in those moments, He sends people in His timing to negate those lies and replace them with the simple truth: “He loves you, Chelsey.” There will never be a love that I will experience with any future relationship that will top that. His love for you is publicly displayed for all to see, and He is not ashamed to let it be so.

Here’s to keeping an eye out for PDA moments with the Father. His love is available to you everywhere you turn. 

Until next time…