“Fully known & fully loved.” When I visited two of my closest friends earlier this month, we played a game in which they both independently identified this as my life motto based on a conversation we had months ago. Despite this sentiment of mine living rent-free in my mind for years, I had hardly considered it a “life motto.” And yet, they were right.

It’s absolutely human nature to desire to be loved and accepted, and yet it’s equally true that it’s human nature to want to hide the ugly, ragged, embarrassing parts of ourselves in order to convince others we are worthy of being loved. But anything we may receive from others in response to our hiding these imperfections is hardly the “love” for which we yearn.
One can only truly, fully, completely love someone/thing else when they know exactly what it is they are loving. Otherwise, they are simply enjoying the idea of someone/thing, perhaps for how how it could in turn benefit themselves.
The toughest pill to swallow is that no one on this side of Heaven can truly, fully, completely know us, and thus no one can love us the way we all crave to be loved. There is simply not enough time in a life to listen to every story, hear every thought, or ask every question required to “fully know” someone. And even if there was, that would mean denying oneself entirely to focus totally on someone else in every single moment. Humanly speaking, that is impossible.
Thankfully though, we’re dealing with something more than “human.” There’s still hope and a way to be fully loved.
For years, I’ve tried to polish myself up before coming to God. I’ve hidden behind nice, new dresses in church, highlights and notes in my Bible margins, and knowing the “right answers” in discussions and classes, thinking it would mean God would overlook the mistakes I’ve made and love me — even if begrudgingly. This couldn’t be further from the truth. Firstly, He already knew which of my actions were merely facades for insecurities and doubts, so my attempts to hide only resulted in me imitating Adam and Eve’s futile attempts to hide from God in the garden. And secondly, He already loves me at capacity. He sees me exactly for who I am—every single flaw included—and loves me more than anyone else ever has, ever can, and ever will. I still can’t wrap my head around that.
I don’t mean to talk about God’s love for me as a “Wow, look how great I am!” But rather the exact opposite. A “Wow, look how undeserving I am, and yet how merciful, gracious, and kind God is.” I have made quite literally thousands of mistakes this past year alone. I have regrets and moments I wish had gone differently, I’ve let pride get the best of me, and I’ve unintentionally hurt people I love because, despite my best efforts, I am so far from “perfect.” Not even that, I’m so far from “good.” And yet despite everything that should disqualify me from receiving the perfect love of a perfect God, He chooses to love me anyways. And I can boldly approach the throne of the Holy One and stand in His presence because of how His sacrifice paid the price that I deserve to pay, yet would never be able to. His perfect love now covers me. He sees me as one of His own.
2022 has taught me a lot of things about myself, but far more importantly, it’s taught me immeasurably more about the character of the God I serve. Miracle of miracles: He fully knows me, and yet He still fully loves me. Praise be to God!
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