Fiercely Loved

Reflections on the relentless love of God

There are some children that everyone looks at and their initial response is, “Awww!” They are cute, sweet, and easy to love. It doesn’t take a lot of effort. But there are others who are significantly less loveable. Freddie* was one of those kids. I met Freddie at a time when I was struggling to understand God’s love for me. Still enmeshed in cultic ideology and formulaic, religious thinking, I believed that God’s love was a bit conditional. If I was performing properly, then God loved (and liked) me better. But if I was in sin and rebellion, then God was disappointed and withdrew from me.

Photo by Michael Moloney

I tell Freddie’s story in my book, Religious Rebels.

“The first time I saw Freddie, he was literally being dragged into the principal’s office by his ear. I didn’t even know that really happened anymore, but apparently it does when you are a desperate gym teacher who is sick and tired of dealing with Freddie. I was shelving books in the middle school library and heard the commotion through the big glass windows that looked out into the hall. Freddie had his own reputation, but it didn’t hurt that he was also the youngest Ellis* boy. Everyone in our small town knew about the Ellis clan. They were infamous.

Freddie and I were about as different as you could get. Although I’d moved past my terror of the public school system, I still wore long jean jumpers and waist-length hair as I volunteered twice a week at our local middle school. I was a homeschooled-in-a-cult, sheltered twenty year old. Freddie was a messed up eighth grader from a family of known felons and drug addicts. But I loved him. There was no reason for me to love Freddie; he was not loveable. The teachers sighed when they said his name, and everyone was relieved on the days he skipped school. I wasn’t even volunteering with eighth grade students because they were much too scary in my opinion. I mostly read with struggling fifth graders and shelved books for the librarian. But my heart broke for Freddie, the naughtiest, scariest eighth grader of all.

His resource room teacher thought I was crazy when I asked if she needed help with him, but she handed me some work he hadn’t finished and let me take Freddie back to the library. Freddie thought I was crazy too, but he was happy to get out of class. And that’s how we started working together. On the afternoons I came to school, I’d walk down to see if Freddie was there and we’d head back to the library together for half an hour or so. Sometimes he worked. Sometimes he poked himself with pencils and scribbled on his papers until they had holes. And sometimes we talked.

“Why are you here if you don’t get paid?” Freddie asked me one day.

“Because I love kids,” I replied.

“Even druggies like me?”

“Especially kids like you.”

Freddie doesn’t have a happy ending to his story. I didn’t save him, or turn him around, or help him to do something with his life. I left town at the end of that school year for college and I never saw him again. But Freddie changed me. Because God used Freddie to show me what unconditional love looks like. Jesus poured His love for Freddie into my heart and I couldn’t help myself. And when I thought about how bad Freddie was and yet how much I loved him for no reason, I often heard a quiet whisper, “That’s how I love you.”

Unbeknownst to me at the time, Freddie was just the beginning.

If you were to ask me how I know that God loves you and what that love feels like, I would point you to a running list of scruffy children that I have met and fiercely loved over the past twenty years for no apparent reason.

When God looks at us, He sees every bit of our brokenness and sin—all of the dirt and grime—and the intense, passionate love He feels for us is inexplicable. He doesn’t love us in spite of the mess, instead He loves us even more fiercely because of it. His love is relentless. He will love us until we love Him back. He will love us even if we never love Him back. Ask me how I know.

I’ve felt it. I’ve felt a small piece of His love that has left me in a puddle on the floor and is bringing tears to my eyes as I write this. My heart cannot even begin to handle the intensity of His love. We are fiercely loved by a God who does not give up. Ever.

It was a difficult, scruffy kiddo that put me in my current job as a behavior specialist. I first met Andrew* back when he was a fourth grader sitting in the hall outside of his room. He ended up out there a lot. And even though he wasn’t in my fifth grade homeroom the next year, we connected anyway.

He tried really hard the first few weeks to behave in my math class, but I knew it probably wouldn’t last. One day I looked Andrew straight in the eyes and said, “I will still like you when you fall apart.” He eventually did and I still liked him.

He was not an easy fifth grader. He had big emotions that would often get the better of him especially when he played four square at recess. Sometimes he would scream and yell, throw things, and walk off. Twice I followed him and helped him to regulate. Once he ended up crying in my arms—tall boy with a mustache starting to come in—sobbing while I held him.

I could look you in the eyes right now and tell you with an intensity that might surprise you just how much God loves you. You. Are. Loved. God’s love is crazy, ridiculous, and scandalous. It doesn’t make any sense and it’s not contingent on anything we do. That’s the beauty of it.

Apparently Mr. B, our behavior specialist, watched me working with Andrew and decided that I needed to join his team. A couple of years later, I did. This is now my day job. I spend my days loving difficult children, brainstorming ways to help them, and coregulating with them when they are upset. It’s the perfect fit for the passion God has put in my heart. It uses the ability I have to love messy kiddos with a love that’s bigger than me. And it gives me opportunities to remind us of the fierce and relentless love of God.

I’ve got a kindergartener that I work right now. This child is difficult. They don’t attach well. They are emotionally dysregulated much of the time. I get a lot of calls to their classroom for behavior support. But last week we had a little breakthrough at one point and that kiddo moved into my heart in a way that made them mine.

Photo by Caleb Woods

I came in at one point because they were screaming about missing recess after punching someone. After listening for a bit, they were able to tell me that they didn’t want to be left inside alone. I assured them I would never let that happen.

“How do you know?” They cried.

“Because Mrs. Wood loves you and she is going to take care of you.” The intensity of my tone surprised both of us. We looked at each other and my friend calmed down. I repeated the phrase. I made my little friend repeat it back. We talked about how the reason there are consequences and boundaries is because people care about us.

Boundaries and consequences don’t always feel like love to children who are used to getting their own way. I let this child go outside without snow pants twice in one day because they were throwing a fit. Both times they came back in wet and cold. “The snow hurts!” They said. The third recess, they put on their snow pants without a fuss.

This is God to us. Sometimes God lets us do our own thing and find out the hard way. He doesn’t micromanage us. He allows us to run away and ignore Him. He lets us make choices. He gives permissive grace. But He is always there when we turn and decide His way is better after all.

Once again, there’s no reason for me to love this new kiddo in my life. They are a handful. They are not easy to love. They don’t usually give back. They often run away from me. But I love them anyway. And I can feel the fierce, determined love of God for us in my heart. We are loved and He is going to take care of us.

*Names have been changed to protect privacy.

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