God Is Love

There are moments—quiet ones, usually—when the magnitude of God’s love presses in with such force that it almost feels unreasonable. Not because it’s irrational, but because it’s too much. Too vast. Too persistent. Too unearned. Scripture itself seems to strain for language big enough to hold it. Paul calls it a love that “surpasses knowledge” (Eph 3:19), which is another way of saying: you will never get to the bottom of it.

What strikes me most is how God’s love is never passive. It doesn’t sit back and hope we wander into its radius. It moves. It pursues. It initiates. From the opening chapters of Genesis, God is the One who walks toward humanity, not away from it. And when humanity runs, God runs faster. Jesus captures this in the parable of the prodigal son, where the father sees the son “a long way off” and runs to him (Luke 15:20). That is not the posture of a distant deity; that is the posture of a God whose love refuses to wait politely at the door.

The cross is the clearest demonstration of this pursuing love. “God shows His love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us” (Rom 5:8). Not after we improved. Not once we proved ourselves. While we were still sinners. While we were His enemies (Rom 5:10). The magnitude of God’s love is seen in the timing. He loved us at our worst.

And yet, the magnitude of God’s love isn’t only found in the dramatic moments. It’s in the daily mercies that arrive before we ask for them (Lam 3:22–23). It’s in the patience that outlasts our stubbornness (2 Peter 3:9). It’s in the quiet corrections that steer us away from cliffs we didn’t see (Psa 23:3). It’s in the way He remembers our frame, knows our weakness, and still calls us beloved (Psa 103:13–14).

The magnitude of God’s love is not measured by how lovable we are, but by how loving He is. “We love because He first loved us” (1 John 4:19). His love is the cause; ours is the echo.

And that is a truth large enough to rest in, day after day.