And by any means or in any definition of first that you have, I stand out.
In fact, even before the beginning I was there.
The funny thing was, you barely even noticed me. You didn’t clearly see me, not until you saw that first fight in your family. Or when you had your first heartbreak. Or when you experienced your first failure in class. I could still remember your blank expressions and I could still recall deep inside you all the raging emotions. In those times, I know you sought after Me.
And I was there for you.
When you saw your mom and dad screaming at each other, I was singing sounds of comfort to your ears.
When your heart got broken, I was picking up the pieces and putting everything back together for you.
When you failed for the first time, I was there cheering you up because I certainly believe you are more than that failure. You can do more than that.
I have always believed in you.
Weary heart, how many times have you looked for love in the wrong places?
How many times have you slept late, only to wake up with so much uncertainty about the person you last talked to?
How many times did you end up always feeling cheated
How much tears did you let slip away for someone who doesn’t deserve even a single one of it?
After all that you have experienced, I know you can somehow conclude that talk is cheap when it comes to the three little precious words: I love you.
But hey, please hear me out.
When I said and demonstrated those words to you, I paid so much for it. It was never a cheap exchange. It was never an inexpensive trade.
Your Romeo may have sung songs to you in the tower only to leave the next morning. Your father may have kissed you as he tucked you into bed only to depart again and never return. Your best friend may have stood beside you during seasons of peak only to talk behind your back when seasons of trough come in. But I didn’t confess my love for you in a tower, nor beside a bed, nor behind your back.
I declared my love for you from above.
I didn’t whisper I love you over a candle-lit table. I didn’t transcribe it in a card and send it with flowers. I didn’t tell you I love you in a room full of heart-shaped balloons. I didn’t write it in a poem while sitting under the clouds.
I came down to be crucified.
I’m saying I love you as your sin hammers nails through my hands and hangs me up on a cross. I didn’t simply say I love you. I died to display that I love you, all of you, even your most unlovable parts.
Each wound, each pain, each nail marks love’s sign. Every thorn buried on my brows, every sharp steel slashed on my back, every laceration made on my body roars behind my love for you. I never gave you a red rose; I spilled my crimson blood to prove my declaration of love to you.
Weary soul, I am not your ex-boyfriend or ex-girlfriend.
I am not your absent mother or abusive father.
I am not someone who comes as a friend but kisses as an enemy.
I didn’t lay down my life and take your sins and pains away just to abandon you later on like what others have done in the past. I didn’t let myself be crucified and cursed just to forsake you afterwards. Others may have left you; I never did and never will do. Others may have said broken promises; I do not. Other’s love may have ended; mine will not.
So beloved, return home to My love.
Return to the love who first found you.
Even before you came to know love, my Love entirely knew you.
Even in your pursuit of love, my Love has already found and saved you.
So, remain in my love.
Remain in Me, my love.
I loved you first.