We lift our hands in worship, voices joining thousands of others: “I love you, God.” The words flow easily, feeling both powerful and safe. But when did you last truly allow yourself to hear those same words spoken back to you?
The Comfortable Declaration
There’s something deeply satisfying about declaring our love to God. In worship services, in private prayer, in moments of gratitude—the words “I love you, God” position us as active participants in our relationship with the Divine. We’re the givers, the declarers, the ones taking initiative.
But receiving love? That’s a different story entirely.
The Vulnerable Reception
To be loved unconditionally requires something far more challenging than declaration—it demands surrender. When we say “I love you” to God, we maintain control. We’re performing an action, initiating an emotion. But to receive perfect, unwavering, unearned love? That means believing we’re worthy of it, even when our inner critic insists otherwise.
Think about the woman caught in adultery, dragged before Jesus by accusers with stones ready. After the crowd dispersed, she probably expected judgment, conditions, a lecture about her failures. Instead, she heard: “Neither do I condemn you.”
Can you imagine the shock of undeserved grace?
Why We Struggle to Receive
We’re conditioned to earn love. From childhood, affection often came with conditions. Good grades earned praise. Good behavior earned approval. We learned that love is achieved through performance, maintained through success.
So when God says, “I love you not because of what you’ve done, but because of who you are to me,” it challenges everything we’ve learned about how love works.
Shame whispers lies. The enemy knows our weakness well: “If God really knew what you did last week…” “If God could see those thoughts you can’t stop…” “If God understood how many times you’ve failed…”
But here’s the truth that changes everything: God’s love isn’t given in ignorance of our failures. It’s given in full knowledge of them.
We believe lies about our worth. Deeper than shame about specific failures is the wound in how we see ourselves. “I’m too much.” “I’m not enough.” “I’m damaged goods.” These lies become the lens through which we interpret everything, including God’s love.
We hear “I love you” and immediately add footnotes: “for now,” “but not if you really knew me,” “but not as much as others.”
The Practice of Receiving
Learning to receive God’s love is a spiritual discipline like any other. It requires intentional practice.
Start here, right now. Can you hear these words spoken directly to you—not to humanity in general, but to you specifically: “I love you”?
Notice the discomfort. Feel how your mind wants to deflect with “Yes, but…” or “If only He knew…” Those deflections are normal, but they don’t get the final word.
The Voice That Speaks
The voice saying “I love you” isn’t a disappointed parent waiting for you to shape up. It’s not a conditional friend who loves you only when you’re useful. It’s not a performance-based system requiring constant striving.
It’s the voice that spoke the universe into existence and chose to whisper your name into being. The voice that saw every day of your life before you lived one and still chose to create you. The voice that pursued you when you were running, stayed when you tried to push Him away, continues calling you beloved when you can barely stand yourself.
This is the voice of the God who gave up everything to restore relationship with you. Not with perfect people who earned it. With you. Exactly as you are.
The Transformation
When we finally begin to truly receive God’s love—not just acknowledge it intellectually—everything changes. How we see ourselves, treat others, face failures, dream about futures.
When you know you’re unconditionally loved, you stop needing to prove your worth through performance. When you know you’re chosen and cherished, you stop seeking validation in the wrong places. When you know you’re held by perfect love, you can finally rest.
The beautiful irony? The more we learn to receive God’s love, the more freely we can give it—both back to Him and to others around us. Love received becomes love multiplied.
Open Your Heart
Here’s a gentle challenge: For the next week, practice receiving. Start each morning not with declarations of love to God—though those are beautiful—but by allowing Him to love you.
Sit quietly and let these words sink in: “I love you.” Let them settle into the barricaded places of your heart. When your mind protests with its list of reasons why this can’t be true, gently return to those words.
Because here’s the freedom-bringing truth: God’s love isn’t waiting for you to get better, try harder, or finally become worthy. God’s love simply is. It exists as surely as sunrise, as constant as your heartbeat, as present as your next breath.
The question isn’t whether God loves you. The question is: will you let yourself be loved?
What would change in your life if you truly believed you were unconditionally loved? Share your thoughts in the comments below.