I am completely obsessed with people. I am always interested in a tid bit of information about someone, whether it be an engagement, a new baby, news on who they are dating, their new job, and anything else. In other words, I am nosy. I am that person that stalks on facebook and follows statuses and checks out photo albums, trying to piece together people’s lives and be in the know.

I find lately that I read a lot about love. Love is what drives people. Teenagers post about their broken hearts, others post about being afraid of love, still others talk about their husbands, wives, and children. Somehow, it always comes back to love.

All this “love” has made me take a look at my own life and the love I have.

I was the typical teenager who thought the world would crash down if I broke up with my boyfriend, but it didn’t….and then it didn’t again, and again. But I take a look at my journal entries and wish I could write a letter to my 16 year old self and say, “Patience, wild heart, you will be loved…you ARE loved”.

My Daddy loves me. He loves me the way God asked him to. The kind of love that leaves me with no doubt about how God loves me. I was not an easy child, I declared my independence and pursued it with gusto. I screamed at night in my crib because I didn’t want to go to bed. I said, firmly, that I would do things myself, I fought against curfews and argued about going places with my friends. I rolled my eyes at my parents and thought, for sure, they were the most uncool people I knew. And through all of that, my Daddy loved me. He let me experience some things, and protected me from others, even when I screamed at him in anger for not letting me go.

When I was small and couldn’t sleep, my Daddy would sit on my bed and rub my back while praying until I drifted off to sleep. When I was a teenager and woke up from terrible nightmares, he would come down the hall to my room and pray over me, then sit up in the living room until I fell back asleep. My Daddy loves me.

My Mom loves me. She loved me even when I told her I hated her and screamed hurtful words to her from my bedroom. She loved me when I ignored her words of advice and encouragement. She loved me even when I didn’t clean my room

My Mom and I didn’t have a close mother/daughter relationship, especially when I was in highschool, but she still loved on me and patiently dealt with my typical teenage mood swings. I like to think she was waiting and praying for the day things would change and I would grow up.

I moved away to college and quickly learned how much I loved my parents and knew I could never ever thank them enough for putting up with me. I couldn’t wait to drive home and hear the excitement in my Mom’s voice when I walked through the door or throw my arms around my Daddy’s neck. I loved the moments at the kitchen table as I shared with them about life at college and what I was learning. It was hard to leave every Sunday night. I love my Dad and Mom.

Then I met the Love of my Life. My amazing husband, Brandon brought a new meaning to love. Love is fierce.

Brandon and I fit perfectly, we are both stubborn, loud, sarcastic, and we hold tight to the things we love. When we fell in love I knew that it was over, I was completely captured, and that was fine with me!

Brandon loves me. He sacrifices for me, he says “no” to me when he should, but works incredibly hard to please me and provide for me. He surprises me (in a good way) and he grows with me in life. He shares his dreams with me and asks to hear mine. He encourages me to do things I like, and always tries to find a way to make things happen for me. He makes me laugh all the time. He lets me cuddle with him in bed even though it makes him warm. He shuts my alarm off in the morning when I don’t work so that I will sleep in. He loves me fiercely.

I will admit that I do not understand when people say they are afraid to love.

I have loved and lost, I have cried many tears when roads have parted, but never have I regretted loving. It is hard to love sometimes and it hurts sometimes, but without love I wouldn’t be me.

I love to be loved and I love to love. To light up when someone enters the room, to be showered with hugs by your family, to know you are accepted by someone, to know that you can be yourself because someone loves you.

God loves me. I have always known God loves me. I can see it every day in many different ways. Even when I make mistakes, get angry, feel sad, He loves me. He made me the way I am, he made me to love fiercely, to crave that relationship with Him.

He made me to be loved.

He made you to be loved.