On being in love. But not really.

Smiling all the time.  To myself.  And to everyone else.

Singing and humming while working.  Or cooking.  Or running.

Having a drastically diminished number of bad hair days. (Win!!)

Being told that I look radiant – particularly on days I don’t wear make-up.  (Double Win!!!)

Feeling happy and rested and content.  Wanting to share the overflowing love and joy that fills my little heart.  Cue rainbows and butterflies and bubbly music.

And so it appears that I am in love.  Except that I’m not.

I wonder – is it possible to be in love without being the object of someone’s affection, or having someone to love back?  I guess it is.

Let me qualify.  The world associates being in love with romance.  Unfortunately, romance does not exist in my life.  Not at the moment, anyway.

I belong to 1% of the female population that doesn’t yearn for or seek romantic love.  I’ve become so satisfied with being on my own.  So much so that men would sometimes ask – are you single?  You don’t look like you are.  (Thank you for the compliment, BTW.)

I guess what they’re trying to say is – you don’t look like you’re waiting for a man to sweep you off your feet.  Maybe they presume it’s already happened.  Given the above – well, it’s a natural human conclusion.

(This may also explain my state of perpetual singleness.  And no, I am not complaining.)

Can I just say why I think I am the way I am?

Because I know I am loved.  Completely, unconditionally, with all my faults and failures.

And this thought is what makes me love others, too.

All my life I have lived with this lie that tells me I am unloved.  That I am unlovable.  I’m not pretty enough, I’m not funny enough, I’m not friendly enough, I’m not smart enough.  I’ve sought love and always found it lacking.  I always end up hurting and bleeding, bruised and angry.  My heart became hard and calloused.  I was broken in so many places that I’ve become numb.

I gave up on love.  In all its forms, in all its ways.

Until one day, a man showed me what true love meant.  I have known this man almost all my life.  And yet it was only recently that I took the time to listen to what he had to say.  I had never taken a hard look at what he had to offer.

Here was a man who had given everything – his very life – just to be with me.

How can you turn away from a love like that?

A love that seeks to make you whole, to restore you from your brokenness.  A love that sees you for what you are – someone that wants to be sheltered and protected, behind that facade of self-sufficiency.  A love that gives you strength when you are weak, rest when you are weary, comfort when you are sad.

A love that isn’t afraid to tell you when you’re wrong, and saves you from your own stupidity.  A love that takes you back even when you’ve forgotten all about him.

This is my Jesus.  My love, my joy.  I know he has not withheld any good thing from me.

It is his love that brings out the best in me.  His love carries me through.  And with him, all the cheesy love songs finally made sense.

His love has saved me, and has made me ready to love again.

And so, I am in love.  Not the way the world thinks.  But it is love, nonetheless.

A love that is greater than what most of the world would understand.

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