I wouldn’t say that I’m necessarily a jealous person. I love my girlfriend very much (@emsteine for those on the tweetboxes) and I’ll do anything to keep her, but I don’t have to go kill anyone to do so. I’m blessed by the fact that she wants me and me alone, so my job as her boyfriend becomes much easier.

Recently a mutual friend of ours started calling her babe and honey and things like that, and while my initial reaction would have been to hit him, I realize that she doesn’t want anything to do with anyone other than me. So why be jealous? I prefer to just sit back and smile, knowing that she’s mine.

I wish I could say that my faith works the same way.

We are truly, as David Bazan put it, the prostitute wives of a minor prophet: we know we’ve got everything we need, all the love our hearts could ever handle, and yet we keep running away. Time after time, our minor prophet keeps coming back to save us, never angry, just thankful to have us back. Why do we run away in the first place? What else could be better?

I don’t profess to know what God thinks, but if I were in his shoes I would be pissed. Really, really pissed. Why would these people, who I gave my only Son for, keep running off to drink and gamble and make messes of their lives? Don’t they know I’ve got everything they need? If someone cheated on me as many times as I’ve “cheated” on God, I would have sent them packing a long time ago. But he keeps coming back. Over and over. Time after time. Just waiting patiently for us and then continuing to love us all the same.

One of my favorite songs begins with this line: He is jealous for me. Isn’t that a crazy notion? The God of all creation, jealous? But He has told us over and over in His word that he is, in fact, jealous; He wants us to only want Him. And this love that he gives us is, as the song says, like a hurricane. Strong, overwhelming, all encompassing.

We are sinful creatures, running from our Maker day after day, but we need to realize that no matter how far we run, He just wants us back. Broken, beaten, bruised, ruined; He wants us back exactly how we are. Let Him love you like a hurricane.