“For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son…”
— John 3:16
I’ve said it countless times. Heard it all my life, whispered it in prayer.
But today… it hit different.
He gave.
His only.
The Cost of Real Love
That phrase—“He gave His only”—lingered like a question I wasn’t sure I wanted to answer.
If we’re made in His image, and if God is love, then we weren’t just designed to feel or receive love.
We were designed to give it.
And not the easy kind.
Not the “thinking of you” text or the heart emoji kind.
I’m talking about the love that costs you something.
The kind that stretches. That bleeds. That sacrifices.
The kind that echoes back to the cross.
God didn’t just say “I love you.”
He proved it—with the most valuable, irreplaceable gift He had: Himself.
So let’s just be honest—love that isn’t demonstrated isn’t love at all.
It’s lip service.
And both God and I are calling that out now.
The Ache of Obedience
Today I wrestled with my own sacrifices.
No spouse.
No children.
Just… work. Purpose. Ministry.
And for a moment—if I’m being completely transparent—I felt hollow. Despondent even.
Because the silence?
It feels like loss sometimes.
It’s so easy to measure your life by what you don’t have.
To question if the work of your hands matters without someone to pass it to.
To wonder if you missed “it” while doing all the right things.
Should I have invested more time in love?
Did I make the right sacrifices?
Would those things have made me feel more worthy of being loved—or remembered?
What Heaven Sees
And then, through that wave of questioning, I remembered something gentle and strong:
I am the recipient of His love.
Not a transactional kind. Not performance-based.
But the kind that gives—without any guarantee of return.
I’ve had to love people who couldn’t love me back.
I’ve chosen to serve without applause.
To give without being seen.
And in all of that, I wasn’t just being faithful.
I was mirroring the God who chose me first.
Maybe It’s Not Missing
So yes—this life is tough.
Yes—the quiet ache can feel like something is missing.
But maybe it isn’t.
Maybe it’s just drenched in a love so pure, so invisible to this world, that only Heaven truly sees it.
And that kind of love?
The Jesus kind of love?
That’s never wasted.
Every time I choose Him—again and again and again—I am living out what real love looks like.
Even when it feels like loss.
Dear reader…
Have you ever felt the weight of giving love that no one seems to notice?
Have you questioned your choices, your season, your silence?
If so, I just want to say: I see you.
And more importantly, Heaven does.
Let’s keep choosing love. Even when it’s costly. Even when it looks like loss.
