You know that expression, “If it seems too good to be true, it probably is?” That’s exactly how I felt about love. It seemed like a nice idea in theory, but my reality… well, let’s just say it didn’t live up to what that idea promised.


So I settled. For a job, relationship, and life that I didn’t really love. All of which led me down a steady spiral of cynicism and despair. Was this really my life? Is this it? Shouldn’t there be something… more?


Fast forward to the most challenging moments of my life – a major panic attack that stopped me in my tracks. So set was I in my disbelief that I needed to be broken open in order to finally let Love in.


Yes, Love. Capital L. As in, the source of all love – God. In the wake of panic and the resulting fear that overshadowed my daily life, I needed to rely on God in a way that I never had before. I couldn’t continue to keep Him at arm’s length; no, now I was acutely aware of my need for Him. To sustain me. To strengthen me.


To love me.


Somewhere along the road back to normalcy, God had shown me this: In refusing to believe in the possibility of human love, I was also refusing to believe in His words and promises.


My own warped definition of “love” – as choice without feeling, duty without devotion – was keeping me from accepting the love of my Heavenly Father, and it wasn’t until I allowed Him to love me that I was finally able to understand the reality of human love, and to experience it for myself.


Love is real. On a human and spiritual level. And it is so overwhelmingly powerful, life-giving, and paradigm-shifting that it must be shared. Which is why I write. To inspire hope in the face of doubt. To give love a voice in this world that has treated it with such disdain. And to empower you, dear reader, to believe in love. And Love.