Thou Art My Love

“For I am persuaded, that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come, Nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.” — Romans 8:38-39 (KJV)

At last Bunyan started telling the Bedford Christians how he was feeling. They told their pastor, John Gifford, who invited Bunyan to his house to listen to him talking with others about how God works in people's lives. And then something unexpected happened. The closer Bunyan got, the worse he felt.

He began to notice what was going on inside him, the wrong thoughts and desires he had never paid attention to before. His heart felt cold and dragging, “as a clog on the leg of a bird to hinder her from flying.” He was sure he was going backwards. “I was more loathsome in my own eyes than was a toad,” he wrote, and sin seemed to bubble out of his heart “as water would bubble out of a fountain.” He was convinced “that everyone had a better heart than I had.” He even envied animals, because “they had not a sinful nature.” This went on, he says, “even for some years together.”

Friends tried to point him to God's promises. It was no use: “they had as good have told me that I must reach the sun with my finger.” But he did one wise thing. He did not want to get rid of his guilt the wrong way, by distracting himself or just waiting for the feeling to fade. He had seen people do that and come out harder than before. He wanted his guilt dealt with properly, by Christ.

The turn came through a sermon on two words from the Song of Songs, “My love.” The preacher said that even when a believer is tempted and feels deserted by God, they are still Christ's love. Bunyan “got nothing” from it at the time. But walking home, he thought, “What shall I get by thinking on these two words?” And the words began to burn: “Thou art my love, thou art my love,” twenty times over, louder and warmer. He kept answering, “But is it true, but is it true?” Then the voice inside him grew stronger still, adding that nothing would separate him from that love.

He was so full of joy that he said he could have told the crows sitting on the ploughed fields about God's mercy, if they could have understood him. He wished he had pen and ink to write it down there and then, “for surely I will not forget this forty years hence; but alas! within less than forty days, I began to question all again.”

That last sentence is one of the most honest in the book. Real experiences of God's love do not always stay bright. They fade, and the doubts come back. That doesn't mean the first experience was fake.

And look at “everyone had a better heart than I had.” Almost everyone feels this, because you see the whole messy inside of your own head and only the outside of everyone else. Getting closer to God often makes you more aware of what's wrong, not less, and that can be a sign of life rather than proof you're failing. But if a heavy, hopeless feeling about yourself sits on you for weeks and won't lift, it's not just a spiritual problem to battle alone. Talk to a parent, a pastor, or a doctor. Low mood like that is common, and real help exists.

One thing to do this week: write down one moment when God's love felt real to you, with the date, the way Bunyan wished he had pen and ink. Keep it somewhere safe. On the days the feeling has gone, read it again.