Real Love is Revealed by Faith Alone

Thanksgiving was wonderful for the simple fact that Fashionista was home. We spent Thursday with I.T.'s family and Saturday with mine. My talented nieces made this adorable choir out of empty toilet paper rolls. They handmade some of the carolers' hats by modifying socks and others they crocheted. I think they would do very well selling sets of carolers such as this one on Etsy.

I tried not to sink into sadness when Fash left to return to the far away college place, but apparently I did not try hard enough. I have spent every day since last Sunday sulking and trying to blame my loneliness on I.T., who tries only to make me feel better. Every day I see the life of Jesus in that man, as he continues to love me, as pitiful as I am in my sorrowful state.

Even as I struggle to let go of time gone by and find purpose in my present circumstance, I remain thankful. I am thankful for a God, who is love- real love- the only real love there is. A God whose love "does not depend on my performance or lack thereof, but rests upon the faithful performance of His Son Jesus Christ" (Jesus Loves Me by H.L. Roush, Sr.), who loves me so much he gave his life, so that I may have life. The kind of love God has for me is not easily defined. It is "a self-sacrificial love, called out of the heart due to the preciousness of the object loved." (Roush) I am that object so precious to God that he loves me and makes me, the unacceptable, acceptable; loves me though he may not like what he sees; never fails or withdraws himself from me and maintains this love of me throughout eternity.

This empty nester has good days and bad days. But it is every day that I give thanks for the love of God and it is day by day that I strive to understand more deeply what this agapao love looks like and how it is that the God of the universe extends this love to me.