It started with a song lyric in church – “Your love always finds me.” I saw myself perched up high in a tree in the woods, and Jesus, wearing jeans and a t-shirt, standing at the bottom, His hand shielding His eyes from the cracks of sunlight sneaking through the branches, and a small bead of sweat rolling down his neck. He was looking up at me. He had found me.

I know that God is always there, but that doesn’t seem very special to me. If God is always there, then it’s just the norm – it’s what’s expected. But it’s different when He notices that you’re gone and goes searching for you until He finds you. That means your presence matters; that means He wants to be with you; that means He wants to make sure you’re okay; that means you’re more important that anything else going on.

Four years ago my grandpa died while I was in the mountains with my family. I heard the news and marched up the incline at the back of the house, climbed a tree, and ran my eyes dry. It was one of my life’s loneliest moments. But Jesus has been showing me that although He is always there, He’s not in the background like a ghostly figure looming above me wherever I go – in my eyes, this doesn’t speak relationship. Instead, He makes it personal to me, noticing that I’m gone, and putting everything aside to purposefully come and find me.

My closet is another physical space that holds my emotionally and spiritually dark places. I would walk in, close the door, and sit in the corner with my knees drawn close, my hands covering my face, and my strength withering away. Jesus was downstairs. But He noticed I was gone and started asking if anyone had seen me. He searched for me. When He heard my sobs behind the closed door, He paused, His eyes filled with tears, and He quietly turned the knob. The light flooded in when He found me, but I didn’t know because my hands still hid my face. Jesus isn’t forceful; He’s not the type to rip off my hands and yell, “Look!! Don’t you see the light?? Open your eyes, open your eyes!!” At least that’s not what He is to me. Jesus saw me buried against the wall, His face softened and His shoulders dropped as He took on what I felt, and He sat down next to me, far enough to give me space, but close enough for me to know He was there. He didn’t say a word. He just sat there. My eyes could not see His presence, His light, but I could feel it. After some time, I came to Him, laid my head in His lap, and continued to cry as He stroked my hair.

I’ve realized that there has been a part of me that has needed someone to know the pain that I have felt and all the times I have cried, not to apologize for it or to take the blame and feel guilty for it, but just to know it. Another part of me has always wanted someone to have, in the moment, realized I was missing, and purposefully searched for and found me. It’s a new meaning to Jesus being what I need.

I recently stared at the darkest corner of my life. I can’t explain how heavy it is to stare at a space you’ve avoided for so long, to look loneliness in the eyes, inches from its deep, musty breath, and to forgive it. Over and over again I forgave, with years of agony spilling from my eyes and a calm but shaking voice, I forgave it. I apologized to the little girl who used to lie there feeling things that many do but no one should, and I unchained the power it had over me. Then I called it into the Kingdom, spoke a blessing over it, and walked away.

When I saw Jesus in that corner, I didn’t see Him as a man. In that moment, He was a lamb and I held on to Him closely. Again, He said nothing. He was just there.

I don’t know why I’m writing this. It might be easy and quite possibly boring or confusing for you to read but it’s hard for me to speak. Jesus showed me all of this a few weeks ago but nothing has come of it since then. This morning on the train I asked Him what I was supposed to do with it. First, He told me to let Him love me. Then, He told me to share it. So here it is. Jesus is what you need. Jesus thinks you matter. Jesus notices when you’re missing and goes out of His way to find you. Jesus gives you the light to shine into your darkest places. He doesn’t make you do anything – you don’t have to lift your hands from your eyes, but oh how I wish you would. What comfort and healing there is in seeing love come find you.

I wrote this soon after seeing everything:

“Loneliness follows me around, taunting and scaring and pushing me down. Up in my room I hide and stay, hoping that no one will hear me wither away. A blanket of cries covers me softly, till nothing is heard and all have forgot me.

But you opened the door and found me. Not to scold me or tell me what my head already knew but my heart couldn’t hold, but to sit with me in silence so I wouldn’t be alone.”

It might not make sense to you, but that's okay with me. This is how Jesus is loving me because He knows it's how I need to be loved. What you need could be different and He knows this. Let Him love you, too.