Don’t you think that turning our loneliness into the abundant life we were created for might be why Jesus risked stepping into that line of complicated humans at the Jordan River to strike up a friendship that has now extended even to us?
I wonder if grace could be better described as the warm waters of birth that nurture us in the womb, that bathe us in unconditional love, and then launch us into new light and life, no matter what our age.
You and I and every child who’s ever been filled with anticipation for what delight might await them in the morning have known a form of unconditional love. Jesus would just expand radically what and whom in this world we might come to love in just that unabashed way, as we come to trust that God loved each one of us in just that unabashed way first.
There was a teller sent from God, whose name was John, whose name was Gwendolyn, whose name has been forgotten, whose name is known only to us. They came as tellers to tell about the light, about the love, about the times like this, so that all might believe that love is true and triumphs; and God’s actual, so that all might believe that among us we’ll find God already and always.