I believe in magic. I believe in the purest form of magic there is. The kind of magic that fills your heart with awestruck wonder, the kind that makes you blink for the second time, the pinch yourself just to make sure you’re not dreaming; magic. I don’t believe in the card trick, make a car disappear magic, I want to make that very clear, to me magic isn’t a lie, it isn’t a trick or based on deception. True, pure, intentional magic is so much more than what meets the eye, that is still so true.
The moments in life that make you stop in your tracks and make you wonder how it can get any better, the way you can look at broken things and still find the beauty they hold. When two things that appear so different fit perfectly together only as if they were truly and divinely made for each other. Tucked away in the most tenderest of moments, the ones that seem so intentionally placed in such a particular order.
Magic.
It’s because, you see, love. Love is the closest thing we as humans have to magic. For so long I chased love, I looked in all the wrong places. I begged for it, I felt unworthy of it; I loathed it but at the same time still loved it, I was confused by it. Love.
I wanted to believe in love the way a child believed in Santa Clause. I wanted to fall in love the way you fall asleep, slowly and then all at once. To me, that is magic.
It wasn’t until I quieted my chaotic life long enough to find it in the unapologetic stillness. The slow sun rays that reflect off the soft ripples of the water on a late afternoon. The stillness of each individual crack that fly from a fire laced through the embers on a log. The stillness of the light taps of rain drops as they fall off a warm tin roof. The deafening beauty of each star that shines through the pitch darkness of a midnight sky. Until I quieted the loudness around me, I would have missed the most abundant profound magic. I never felt loved until I ran to the arms that have been waiting to hold me, the arms of my Papa.
You see, I was always confused. I knew God loved me, but I never felt it, I never felt it because I never knew how to let God love me, I didn’t deserve it I felt like a burden, a lost cause, a broken woman that no one could love. So to me, yeah God loves everyone, but not me, because I don’t feel the magic behind such a powerful concept.
I wish I could grab that girl by her shoulders and shake her until she got it, I wish I could’ve stopped the tears and the feeling of hopeless unlovability that I felt in my core. Because the truth is, yeah, we don’t deserve that kind of love, but He loves us that way, anyway. It’s the magic that no one will understand because it’s real, it’s so real, because He loves us that much. A magic that you will never find from another human being, and when I started believing that and finding it in God and not earthly things that’s when I started feeling the magic of God’s powerful love.
He knew all we’d do, and say, He knew the bad, the ugly, all of it and He chose us through it, when He knew He’d love me even when I cursed him, blamed him, and ran from him, He laced up His shoes to chase me. Waiting in the exact same spot I left Him in hopes one day I’d return. He knew how hurt He would be loving someone, being in love with someone who didn’t love Him back and still choosing to fall in love anyway.
He still chose that cross, and He will choose it every single time. Now tell me, tell me you don’t believe in that kind of magic, that magic from our Father. Jesus died for you, for me, knowing we may never love him back. Papa, revealed parts of us, parts that we may have lost for too long, parts we thought we lost forever and intern we found a love we no longer believed was real. The kind of love that will never change it’s mind, that believes in the impossible, the “I can’t wait until you come back to me,” never losing hope kind of love. The love we don’t deserve but we get anyway, because that’s how good He is.
My breakthrough. The breakthrough I’ve been praying for. An answered prayer, a life altering realization, I am loved. Since training camp people have been speaking love over me but all the while still knowing, I had to find it for myself. I used to write copious amounts of pieces about love. Love I wanted in a husband, a child, a friend. How empty where my words without understanding the greatest form of love there is.. because truthfully, I always knew what love wasn’t but now, I know what love is.
It’s magic.
xo,
Kenz
