Infinite love

God, I've found something.

Charles Spurgeon said this:

'Did you ever think of the love which Christ will manifest to you when he shall present you without spot or blemish, or any such thing, before his Father's throne?  Well, pause and remember, that he loves you at this hour as much as he will love you then; for he will be the same forever as he is today and he is the same today as he will be forever.  'As the Father hath loved me, even so have I loved you;' and a higher degree of love we cannot imagine.  The Father loves his Son infinitely, and even so today, believer, doth the Son of God love thee."CW Spurgeon, Daily Help, iPhone app

Lord, this has amazed me.  

You know when you think about something for the first time - I mean that it's something that you know, that you've accepted, but then something happens that makes you think about it properly for the first time, to concentrate on it and appreciate it fully, dwell on it?  No I suppose you don't.  You're all knowing.  There are no new ideas for you, are there?  

Well, you know how that happens to me? It did this morning when I read this bit from Mr Spurgeon.

As you love Jesus, you love me.  

That Father/Son thing, the way you, the Creator of the universe love your only Son, that's how you love us.  

That's how you love me.  That perfect love, that all encompassing, unconditional, infinite love. 

How can that be?  I've known that you love me, and I've sung all the songs, 'How deep the Father's love for me...da di da di da'  etc, but today I read this little passage from Charles Spurgeon and it jumped out at me that you love me as you love your Son. 

My God.

Why?  Loving your Holy Son is one thing.  Loving Jesus, who never sinned, who did this breathtakingly amazing thing, who lived a perfect human life, who understands you completely, who is one with you, that's one thing.  But I'm a creature that you made, who does her own thing and barely acknowledges you, and yet you love me like that.  I suppose that's unconditional love.

Infinite love.  Love that never ends.  

There's nothing I can do to make you love me more, and there's nothing I can do to make you love me less.  

It's true.  Your love goes on and on and keeps steady even when I pick it up and crumple it and throw it away. I have no idea how that's possible.

Unchanging love. From age to age the same. You are the same God that spoke to Adam and Noah and Moses and David and Job and Isaiah and Mary Magdalene and Paul and Charles Spurgeon and you speak to me. Me. 

You're the same yesterday, today and forever.  And what's more, you loved me before I was born, all those years where I didn't give you a thought, now, when I'm trying, failing, trying, failing - and you'll love me when I arrive in front of you with nothing but my little paltry bit of love to offer you like a child with a little treasure in their pocket wrapped in a hanky and covered with pocket fluff.  

Some days I can't see past my life, Lord.  I can't imagine that one day it will end; what then?  I can only concentrate on now, or worry about the future, or rehash the past.  

Other days, like right now, I get a glimpse of the day when it will all be over and I can see you and I'll be enveloped in that profound love and I'll never have to leave and there'll be no more struggling, no more frustration, no more failure. 

It sounds great. Infinite love. 

I praise you, Lord. 

Thankyou for loving me. 

No understudy

'Just as a body, though one, has many parts, but all its many parts form one body, so it is with Christ.' 

1 Corinthians 12:12

I'm familiar with this passage in the Bible.  When I was much younger we had all the jokes about who was the armpit and who was the spleen and so on, and now I'm older I'm still not too sure how far the analogy can be taken, but I take the point.

We all have different spiritual gifts. We are all unique, no-one less valuable than any other. A huge diversity of skills, personalities, abilities and talents. Together we make up the Body of Christ, with Jesus at the Head. Together, Paul says, we make up the whole. We are one through the Holy Spirit. If someone is missing, nobody else can do his job, because it is a job made for him alone. Each part needs the others to function and when we are all in concert we make a beautiful sound. 

It's the 'all-working-together' thing that's the problem. We all interlock and if one cog gets jammed then sometimes the machine comes shuddering to a halt. I know well that if I have a sore thumb then I can't use the hand properly. If my knee hurts and I limp for too long, my hip starts to hurt too. If I put my back out, there's very little I can do with my day.

Quite often we bicker and squabble and and think we are more important than we are. We think we deserve more than our allocated part and try to be something else. We get resentful or critical and think that we could do a better job than someone else. Why are we never satisfied? 

I find it quite reassuring that the disciples had the same problem. They wanted to know who was the best and brightest. They wanted to know who would be sitting to the right and left of Jesus in Heaven. 

John 21:21

'Peter asked...'Lord, what about him?'Jesus answered, '...what is that to you? You must follow me.' (my emphasis)

What is it to me what someone else does? Why do I jostle for position and wonder if somehow I'm short changed? Why do I worry about what people think of me, of what I do, when I know that I am occupying the place that only I can occupy? Lord, I so want to do with my life what you would have me do. Sometimes I am full of purpose and sometimes I feel as if I'm treading water. Marking time. Vacillating.

Fibrillating. Like the heart does when it gets out of rhythm. Paramedics come crashing in and slap on two paddles and shout 'Charging!' and 'Clear!' and then whoof! the heart gets shocked back into a sinus rhythm (whatever one of those is, but I watched ER for a while). And then all is well again, but it was a close call.

Sometimes I feel as if I'm fibrillating. Immobile. Rabbit in the headlights.

But I have an important job to do because there isn't a redundant bit of the Body of Christ.
(I don't know about the appendix.  But that's probably being facetious.)

Charles Spurgeon took this idea of a collective whole to another level for me the other day. A beautiful level. An eye-opener:

'Each of God's saints is sent into the world to prove some part of the divine character.'

(Charles Spurgeon, The Daily Help devotional for iPhone, 43rd Element.com)

Somehow, just by being me, here, in my little corner of the earth, day by day, I reflect something of your character. Some little tiny aspect of your personality is me. Not somebody else. How amazing is that? 

He goes on:

'In heaven we shall read the great book of the experience of all the saints, and gather from that book the whole manifestation and display of some position or other of God; a different part may belong to each of us, but when the whole shall be combined, when all the rays of evidence shall be brought, as it were, into one great sun, and shine forth with meridian splendour, we shall see in Christian experience a beautiful revelation of our God.'

Can that be possible?  That one day I might have a contribution to make in this awe-inspiring spectacle?  This is going to be an enormous canvas. I can't wait to see it. 

The other day I got a glimpse of the sheer scale of you, God; the vastness and the majesty and glory of you who holds the universe in your hand. Creator of billions of stars in billions of galaxies. If I think of all the people who have known you from the very beginning to the end of time - from Adam and Eve through to all the people who are alive today and love you the world over, beyond and into the future, all those not yet born, until the end of time  - that's a lot of people. 

And we are all unique. If Spurgeon is right (and I so hope that he is) each one of all these children of yours reflects a unique part of you. We each have a little facet completely our own. It needs a glimpse of the enormity of you in order to understand how such a thing might be true. How complex you are. How many different aspects there are to you. 

So I am intensely significant. Not only do I have a role to fulfil down here, now, in my life, but I have a part in this extravagant art project in Heaven too. I have a ray of light to add to the 'great sun' which will shine for eternity and make you smile.

So why do I wish I were someone else? I am made to be me. 

Why do I think that other people matter more than me?  You made me to be me. 

There's no understudy.

What is it to me what they do?  I must follow you.

'Now you are the body of Christ, and each one of you is a part of it.'

1 Corinthians 12:27

Lord, help me to believe not in myself, but in the wisdom of you, who made me. Help me to see the honour that it is to do the job in this life that you have made me to do and not gaze about me wishing that I were an elbow instead of an ankle. Show me what to do. Give me enough light for the step I'm on and the courage to stride into the darkness, knowing that you won't let me fall. 

Give me a glimpse of that spectacular revelation that one day I'll be part of. It's going to be beautiful because it's You.

I'm working on my contribution right now.