If you walked into my home, you’d see photos of my grandchildren on every wall. Their artwork is taped to the fridge—their handprints, their scribbles, their school pictures. Why? Because I love them. I treasure them. I want to be reminded of them every time I walk into the kitchen.
My love for them is personal. It’s patient. It’s for the long haul.
Now imagine this:
If God had a refrigerator, your picture would be on it.
Your scribbles, your fingerprints, your moments.
If He had a wallet, you’d be the photo He shows off to the angels.
That’s how deeply and faithfully God loves you.
Today, we remember St. Monica—a woman whose love was anything but instant. She prayed for her son Augustine for seventeen years. Not with loud speeches or perfect words, but with tears, silence, and trust. She didn’t give up. She didn’t rush God. She stayed close.
And because of her love, Augustine didn’t just come back—he became a saint.
In our Gospel, Jesus speaks honestly. He warns against being like whitewashed tombs—clean on the outside, but empty inside. It’s a hard image, but it speaks to something real. We live in a world that teaches us to polish the outside. To look good. To seem fine.
But God isn’t looking at our filters.
He’s looking at our hearts.
And sometimes, our hearts are tired.
Sometimes they’re confused.
Sometimes they’re carrying questions we don’t know how to answer.
That’s okay.
Because God doesn’t wait for us to be perfect.
He waits for us to be honest.
To let Him in.
The Psalm today says, “Where can I go from your Spirit? From your presence, where can I flee?”
The answer is: nowhere.
Even in our wandering, God is already there.
Even in our silence, He’s still listening.
So maybe you’re in a season of waiting.
Maybe you’re praying for someone who’s far from faith.
Maybe you’re wondering if your small acts of love matter.
They do.
Because love plays the long game.
It doesn’t always look dramatic.
Sometimes it looks like quiet persistence.
Like showing up.
Like praying when no one sees.
Like trusting that God is working, even when you can’t yet see the fruit.
So tonight, let’s walk with God in that kind of love.
Let’s be honest.
Let’s be patient.
Let’s be faithful.
And let’s remember:
You are known.
You are loved.
You are held by a God who treasures every part of you—and who never gives up.
Amen.
The Long Game of Love
Lord,
You have searched me
and You know me.
You see beyond the surface—
into the quiet places of my heart.
Even when I wander, You are there.
Even when I doubt, You are faithful.
Even when I feel far,
Your love holds me fast.
Shape my heart to be real, not just polished.
Let my faith be deep, not just visible.
And remind me, again and again,
that I am known, I am loved,
and I am never beyond Your reach.
Amen.
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