What Does it Mean to Be Beloved by God?
Beloved is a word used in Scripture both as an adjective (“My dearly beloved Son”) and a term of address, but what does it mean to be beloved by God? Paul, John, and Jude all use the word to describe the people to whom their letters were addressed. The Greek word translated as “beloved” (agapetos)* indicates dearly loved, highly esteemed, or favorite. We, those who follow Jesus, are dearly loved, and, in way, we’re favorite children. Consider the words of Jude as he opened his epistle: “Jude, a bond-servant of Jesus Christ, and brother of James, to those who are the called, beloved in God the Father, and kept for Jesus Christ.” Jude 1:1 I am beloved by God, and so are you. Ponder that a few moments, then say these words aloud: I am beloved by God. Repeat them and let their beautiful truth soak into your soul. God spoke from heaven at Jesus’ baptism and He used the same word. “This is My beloved Son. (Mark 1:11) My agapetos Son.** The word describes the depth of God’s love for Jesus and His love for us. The never-ending, unconditional, unlimited love of God is not only lavished on His only Son; although underserved, the same love is also lavished on each of us. Selah. Pause and ponder that for a moment then consider this… Being beloved doesn’t equal an easy life. Several years ago, I thought and talked about the love of God quite often, but maybe not for the reason you might expect. After a long siege of hard, followed by a long siege of a different kind of hard, I wondered what God intended. It was an excruciatingly difficult time during which I was so overwhelmed I wondered if there was a lesson in the suffering at all. I had a lot of questions for God. Was there a point to the suffering? If I learned whatever lesson was included would it bring my trial to an end? What did it mean to be beloved by God in the midst of such suffering? Answers came slowly, if at all. Eventually, I learned an important truth in the long season of agony. Suffering is common to the human experience, but it does not diminish the love of God by a single iota. I spent more days than I care to admit wailing before the Lord. Finally, I took action. Offered to repent of sins I didn’t have after repentance of the sins I did have failed to break the siege. In case spiritual warfare caused my problems, I rebuked the evil one and quoted more Scripture than I realized I knew. It didn’t help. Because a sacrifice of praise turned things around once before, I gave thanks for the blessings I have, the problems I don’t, and the gifts of God I might or might not receive. Powerless to fix it. Finally, I admitted something terrible. I had no control over the duration of the siege of hard. I was powerless to shorten it or to make it easier. My job was to get through it and honor God while I did. Unfortunately, I felt a little like a coyote in a trap who gnaws off his own leg to save his life. The needed medical treatment was a drug so potent most people who take it feel terrible. Imagine first-trimester pregnant, a severe case of influenza, and a football concussion all at once. Yeah. Bad. With a dazed brain, generalized aches, fatigue, and persistent nausea writing was hard. No, nearly impossible. I’m a writer. It’s who I am, what I do, how I process life. The biggest, best part of my life (next to my faith and my son, Ryan) vanished and I missed it dreadfully. Blog posts? Impossible. Novel edits? Out of the question. New stories and Bible studies? I couldn’t put together a sentence, much less an entire book. After twenty years as a writer, I didn’t know how to function without writing. The hardest months of my life weren’t wasted. The long-haul of hard taught me one important fact: Being beloved by God doesn’t always equal feeling loved. What I knew and how I felt didn’t match. I knew I’m God’s dearly beloved child but I didn’t necessarily feel beloved. My problems didn’t feel fair but it wasn’t about fair. In truth, fair would equal eternal damnation. Grace allowed a temporary difficulty that would, in some not-recognizable-at-the-time way, mold me into a more Christ-like Leanna. It was sensible, at least from a human perspective. The difficulties made the work to which I’m called harder, not easier. I wanted to know the why behind my suffering. The decision to give up my perceived right to an explanation was a hard step. I didn’t know why those agonizing months were necessary. I still don’t. Eventually, I realized “why” didn’t matter and I determined to endure with grace, even if it lasted the rest of my life. That, my friends, was one of the hardest steps in the journey. What does it mean to be beloved by God? We don’t always see what God’s doing. Jude also wrote about God’s generous gifts to us. Eternal life. Mercy. Peace. Love. None of them seemed pertinent to my experience at the moment, nevertheless, they were still given in abundance. The longer the hard time persisted, the more time I spent in God’s presence. Sometimes all I could pray was “Jesus, Jesus,” but it was enough. Despite the pain and anti-viral-induced brain fog, peace reigned. Grace carried me through. The other side I read the story of Job more than once during that time, especially the “after” part when God restored two-fold. I clung to the hope of “the other side.” When it finally came, it was worth everything I went through. God worked when I could not and did things I never imagined. In my writing. In my ministry. He answered prayers that were nothing more than longings in my
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