On affection

My prayer for February was that by the end of it, I would feel soft. I wasn’t even sure what I meant by it, except that after a harder January, I knew my spirit was longing for a gentleness, a beauty, a comfort, an ease.

What I didn’t expect was that this would come in the form of an enormous amount of affection.

C.S Lewis describes affection as the thing you feel for an old pair of slippers you should have thrown away long ago (but they fit so good), a childhood toy, a place that holds special memories. Things that are precious not for their usefulness or what they can give us, but because they are ours, regardless of their imperfections, quirks and idiosyncrasies.

This month I have been filled afresh with appreciation and affection for the gifts that are mine:

marvelling at nearly 15 years of friendship, twice over.
the appearance of skyscrapers on the skyline travelling down the M6
the subsequent sounds of thick brummie accents that signal I’m home
the toothy toddler that half headbutts, half falls into me that I take to mean she likes me
the warmth, sweetness and spice of my (third) cup of chai
the nostalgia of listening to my 2013 playlist
talking knitting and wool and life in the ‘60s with my 90-year-old Naniji
dressing up in deely boppers, chatting about our favourite old men (don’t ask) and laughing a lot with work colleagues
the sweet, cheeky grin of a 4-year-old who gets to stay up late
watching friends doing what they do best, operating in their gifting to the glory of God and blessing us in the process.

More than that I have experienced an increase of affection for the Lord. Whilst the phrasing could sound blasphemous to some, He’s been the biggest babe to me. He is all the time, I just don’t always appreciate it so much.

He is my safe space, my listening ear, gentle towards me and always kind. I’ve been surprised by his manifest presence at the randomest of moments, comforted by His warm and wise words in my weakness, taken aback by how He’s answered prayers before they’ve even left my lips and in small moments known to none but me, granted me grace upon grace, gift upon gift, favour upon favour and spiritual blessing upon spiritual blessing.

Life with the Lord is the most gorgeous and precious of gifts and I love Him. What’s more, the affection I feel for all these people and things is a mere reflection of the affection He feels for me. I love because He first loved me.

Do you want to know something else I learned? A February thought for you? It’s this love that lasts, not romantic love, not erotic love, but the love of God.

This is the only love that will last.

It says it there in the Bible:

‘These three remain, faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.’ (1 Corinthians 13:13)

The word ‘agape’ (in the Greek) used for love - it speaks of charity, goodwill, benevolence, dearness and… affection.

We won’t need faith or hope when we get to heaven. We require them this side of eternity that we might have confidence and assurance about the things that are true that we can’t yet see, but in heaven we won’t need faith in God, because we will have God. We won’t need hope because the things we hope for will be realised. We will see and know, even as we are fully known.

What is the greatest of these? Love- because it’s love that will remain.

The love of God - Love from Him, love for Him and love for each other. The affection that comes not from usefulness or from what we can produce, but from knowing and experiencing that we are His, fully accepted, and from knowing and experiencing that He is ours.

Of the increase of affection, there will be no end. That’s a love worth celebrating.

Love you, rooting for you and feeling especially fond towards you,