THE TRUEST LOVE

My finger shook as I dialed his number. Only desperate girls call boys, only girls that long to be loved.

A female voice answered the phone.

I rechecked the scrap of paper he had scrawled on. “Um, hello, is John there? I might have the wrong number?”

“You skank,” her voice hissed before calling out. “Hey, John! Baby! There’s some whore who wants to talk to you!”

Someone with a shred of dignity would have hung up. Someone else would have taken the hint that John was back with his girlfriend. But I wasn’t someone. I was nobody, so I waited.

“Hello?” His deep voice made my heart leap, then drop, “What are you calling here for?” 

“Oh. S-sorry to bother you. I thought you were taking me to a concert tonight?” My eyes squeezed shut with humiliation.

“My cat died,” he lied.

Something told me to walk away, but I kept crawling forward, wanting him to like me.

“That’s horrible. I’m so sorry.” 

And then came the lethal blow to my gasping soul. My ears exploded with laughter from an unseen crowd that listened on with sadistic glee. I slid down the wall as their mocking assaulted me, and when a dial tone announced it was over, the receiver fell from my limp hand.

Such cruelty leaves one for dead, yet a faint pulse beats deep within every broken heart sending out an SOS to Heaven for our rescue, because we all belong to the Love that created us.

And when the world discards you, Love will find you and carry you Home.

True Love arrives with roses, though thorns pierce His brow; kisses away the tears as spit stings His cheek and allows His heart torn open by the sharpest of words so our souls can climb safely inside. 

Then, in a final crescendo of an ancient love song - Creator to creation -Jesus sings from the cross, so clear, so true, that no melody on Heaven or earth will ever compare.

That is the Love that every heart longs to know.

That is the Love that knows every heart.

That is the Love that is Jesus.

“I am my Beloved’s, and my Beloved is mine.”

Song of Solomon 6:3a niv