We had been dating for about a month when Husband first told me he loved me. By that point we had already fallen hard for each other. We connected on a level I had never experienced before. Our relationship was effortless and incredible, but I didn’t know if I should call the feeling “love.” Love meant duty. Love meant debt. He didn’t owe me anything, and he wasn’t committed to me, so what did he mean when he said “I love you?”
Along with the passion and excitement of romantic love, I also recognized a familiar feeling of attachment, not unlike what I feel for my brothers and sisters. Could it be that “love” is that aching sense of missing someone when they’re gone? Is “love” the name of the feeling you get when you’re watching movies and laughing hysterically with your sisters? Is “love” that swelling in your chest when your baby brother recognized you’re face after 2 months away from home? I do not know if a person exists who REALLY wants to spend their time with God. But after falling in love, I knew that I felt nothing for God but awkward, frustrated, desperation.
Does anybody really truly LOVE their god? Would people still claim to love him if it wasn’t “the greatest commandment?” Is it even possible to love something so invisible, intangible, and unbelievable?