Let me love you when I find you

random google image, sorry I can't give credit

Let me seek you in my desire,
Let me desire you in my seeking,
Let me find you by loving you
Let me love you when I find you.
~St. Anselm

In college I hated the fad of 'dating Jesus' but I was in love with Jesus. I mean I was smitten, I was so desperately passionately in love with Jesus. I was not one of the girls that had 'dates' with her Savior, but I was over the moon. Blissful nights of standing on quiet balconies whispering words to my Romeo, promises that I would love Him forever, and confident that He would do the same. Loving God was all I desired and I was caught up in task demonstrating my love. I would spend mornings in silence watching the sunrise. I spent hours in service because it was the best way I could demonstrate my love. I remember so many worship services filled with euphoric awareness of God's presence and love, dancing in His joy. Those were beautiful and dramatic years, filled with passion and hope and reckless abandon to the love of God.

I am not sure if it was the result of my first real broken heart or the academic nature of studying God in seminary, the trauma of seeing real injustice in Swaziland, the realization that I was not going to live in hut in a magical distant land, or just plain old post adolescent cynical maturity, but my relationship with God has lost its romance. I plead the prayer above, because I miss the desire. I still obey, to the best of my ability. I still believe. I still love God. There are days that I trust this version of my relationship with God more than I trust the one before; this relationship has lost its naivete. This one is a choice to keep loving. This is a commitment, to stay even when the infatuation has faded, but I still must confess that I maybe should spend some more time seeking and desiring and loving.