I love Him because He first loved me.

Who was this disgusting fleshly being that I had become? Or more accurately so, that I was. All the King’s glory that once was within me I traded over for quick thrills. There is no satisfaction in any of what I choose over my King but I chose it all anyway. In my mind was engraved the ideas that the poor offerings of the world were capable of filling my glass, yet in my heart I knew He was the only one who can fill it to overflow. My King was patient with me. He had the authority and the power to end me for a wide variety of transgressions, which all were equally as shameful. Yet He had chosen to have grace towards me. I pondered the reasons but my mind couldn’t fathom such kindness for a peasant such as myself. A peasant, yes, was how I had grown to see myself. My greatest talent was begging for mercy, another chance, and dare I say, forgiveness. Stupid of me to even request such things, yet the King offered them up gladly. “I care not what you have done” He said, “I care only about you.”

When I was alone I wept because I was unworthy. But most of all, because I had fallen in love with the King, the very king I continued to wrong. I screamed in frustration to the air demanding how perfection could even look upon me in my torn dirty rags. I was a mess, unclean and always falling. My diseases continued to thrive in me and I wished so desperately to be relieved of them, but they became a part of me.

But nonetheless my King told me He loved me, that He wanted to walk hand in hand with me. It was then my desperate attempt to fix myself began. In my life all I knew was that I loved Him therefore I would clean myself up, I would make myself worthy for Him. I would do anything to be by His side, the only one who has ever loved me.

I cleaned up and people were shocked. I changed my life around for my King. People were impressed and so was I. I had become a sight to see, people began to look up to me. But when I called for my King He was silent. I began to feel worried. He would not say a word. Days turned into weeks and weeks into months. I clinged to the memory of when He told me He loved me… I would yell out to him on mountain tops, asking where He was… He never answered.

The wickedness inside me began to seep through. My discouragement led to other things, which caused me to stray away from the One I claimed loyalty to. I could not bare the pain of being alone. I told myself I did all I could and slowly lost hope. As time passed, I stopped searching for my King. I thought of Him throughout the day, knowing He was always going to be my first and only love. But I gave up searching for Him.

One night, a knock at my door. I opened it to see the King. I fell to my knees at the sight of Him. I put my arms around His legs and begged Him not to leave me. “Where were you? Why didn’t you answer me?” I cried and cried at His feet. He looked at me and said “my lovely, I have been waiting for you but you never gave me your hand. But fret not, I am here. You have no need to perfect yourself for I am perfection and I am your King. Walk with me, hand in hand, that is all I ever wanted from you, my dear. The rest will come.”

As I gave Him my hand peace washed over me. I realized then that all I ever had to do was reach out to Him, and He would save me.