When I was eleven, I fell in love.
No, it wasn’t a summer fling. This love was going to last a lifetime, my pre-adolescent self was sure of it.
This was true love, and I was determined to hold onto it.
I fell in love during the summer of grade six.
It was my first week at summer camp, and first time away from my parents for more than two minutes.
I decided to take full advantage of this unfamiliar freedom.
I stayed up all night, ate meals with my unwashed hands, and refused to shower.
But what I didn’t expect was to fall head over heels.
At the beginning of the week, boys carried terminal diseases, and had brains the size of a nit. By the end, they had me captivated, well- one in particular that is.
But like every romantic comedy, it happened when I least expected it.
I fell in love with God.
Before you exit this blog and deem me a crazy person I have a point, promise.
No, I didn’t fall in love with a God who strikes people with lightening when they do something wrong. I didn’t fall in love with a God who points fingers for not going to church every Sunday. I didn’t fall in love with a God who shuns people for being-human.
I fell in love with a God who decided to send His only kid to Earth to live like-humans.
I fell in love with a God who decided to let His kid die on a cross so that humans, like you and I- wouldn’t have to.
What? Who does that? I make a big deal about sharing a box of Smarties.
Unfortunately it wasn’t easy being a Christian, especially in university. Sometimes I said I wasn’t, just to dodge the infamous: “So what do you think about abortion and gay marriage?” question.
Thus, I felt like I was pursuing a forbidden love. Take that Juliet.
However, it’s better than any love story Hollywood could come up with.
It’s better than Ryan Gosling writing 365 unanswered letters throughout the year.
It’s better than Leonardo DiCaprio threatening to jump off the back of the Titanic.
It’s better than Ryan Reynolds agreeing to marry his witch of a boss to keep her from being deported.
In my love story, the guy lays down his life for me when I didn’t deserve it.
When you explain to people that you believe in a God that sent His son to be born from a virgin mother, died on cross, and rose from the dead three days later- they recommend you to the psych ward.
I get it. It sounds nuts. But then again, love makes you believe crazy things that eventually don’t seem so crazy.
That summer I fell in love. Since then I’ve made my share of mistakes. But I’ve never looked back.
That summer, I learned of a love that was eternal. It doesn’t judge, hate, or reject. If it did, there would be no point for God’s kid to come and die for us.
That summer I didn’t shower, sleep, or wash my hands. But I learned of a love that thinks I’m to die for, and washed off all my sins for me. Now that’s true love.
Have a Happy Easter Weekend!