When Love Feels Fragile

“Do you really mean it?”

Her eyes narrowed as I spoke, silently asking the question. I could see it written on her face.

“I’ll never stop loving you.”

I meant it. Every word. But I knew she struggled to believe it. My wife — my best friend, who’s walked beside me for fourteen years — still fears that my love might eventually run out.

I’ve never met anyone who loves more fiercely than she does. Her circle is small, but her love is fierce. Still, she wonders if anyone could love her like she loves others.

Why is that? Why is it so hard to believe in unconditional love?

Maybe it’s the way she grew up — always bracing for abandonment. Maybe it’s because people have walked away when love became inconvenient. Maybe it’s because she’s afraid of herself — convinced there’s something in her that’s unlovable.

Do people feel that way about God, too?

A lot of people feel that way about God. It’s why we hide when we sin. It’s why we recoil when love gets too close. In some small recessed corner of our mind, we wonder: What if I finally cross the line? What if this time is too far? What if His love runs out?

But the Gospel says otherwise.

I can’t read my wife’s mind, but I know my own heart. And I know the terror of thinking God might finally have enough of me. I know what it’s like to feel unlovable. I expect God to throw up His hands and walk away like everyone else.

But He doesn’t. He stays. Every time.

The other night, during family movie night. Charlie bounced around, full of energy, and accidentally kicked his cup, spilling juice all over the carpet. I was annoyed. I responded, sharper than I should have. His face fell. Shoulders slumped. I watched his whole body recoil.

And I wondered: Did I just teach him that love has limits?

So I pulled him close, helped him clean up the mess, and told him about a Jesus who never stops loving — even when we make a mess of things.

That’s the kind of love I want my wife to believe in. That’s the love I want my kids to know.

And if I want them to believe it, they must see it in me. Not just in the sermons or lessons I teach but in how I love. How I apologize. In how I draw close instead of pulling away. In how I respond when they mess up. In how I stay — especially when it’s hard.

That’s the burden of every husband and father. We either reflect the love of God or distort it. We either convince our families that love is conditional or show them that real love stays.

And I wonder — how often do we do the same thing with God? How often do we keep Him at arm’s length because we think we’ve finally crossed the line? How often do we hide in shame, afraid His patience has run dry?

But it hasn’t. It never does.

His love doesn’t run out.

His love doesn’t break.

His love doesn’t abandon.

And if I want my wife and kids to believe that — my love has to echo His.

Even when I fail.

Especially when I fail.

Maybe you’ve wondered if God has finally given up on you.

Maybe you’ve felt like you’ve crossed the line too many times.

Can I tell you something?

He hasn’t. He never does. He never will.

And if you needed that reminder today, know I’ve already prayed for you and would love to talk more.