The other night I was sitting out in my backyard, staring up at the stars.  I was gazing into the darkness and fascinated by the millions of stars that filled its blackness with faint light.  It beckoned my eyes to gaze onward, to see into the vastness of my Creator.

I was struck, sisters.  Struck by the beauty of the night, yes; but more deeply struck by an incarnate reality: He knows me.  

It was a deep sense of knowing, not in a sort of exterior way.  It was a knowing in this interior and intimate way, as I felt the Father say, “I know you.  I knew you would be here right now.  I know your heart and the hopes it holds for deep and profound love.  I see you here, I know you here, I am with you here.”

He knows us, sisters.  And is this not what we ache for?  

That someone would know me, and in this knowing, would also love me?  That they would not scatter or run or back away in the knowing, but rather that they would come further up, come further into the mystery of my personhood?  That I, in all of my mystery, would be beautiful and inviting?

The ache is satisfied here, sister.  For the Father knows us in this way: He knows the whole of our mystery and yet still seeks to know.  He knows you fully and intimately, and still, He seeks relationship.  Nothing about you scares him or repels him; He is familiar with you.  He does not grow tired of your familiarity—its ever anew for Him because He is a God who is young.  There is a wholeness about His love because it doesn’t come in pieces.  He knows you.  He understands you.  He whispers, “Come to Me.”  

Sister, rest is found in Him: the Heart where we are fully known and fully loved and there is no shadow.  

Rest, here in this place, is where I can lay my defenses down and be free.  

Being known by Him is the greatest adventure—I feel like a child.  He rejoices over me and delights in the little thoughts and movements of my hearts.  He sees me struggle to grow, He sees my fight for holiness, He hears my whispered prayers.  

I am known by perfect love, and that satisfies everything.

What a gift—the joy that is found here in the rest of being known.

A prayer:

Seen when I feel unseen, 

Heard when I feel misunderstood, 

Known when I feel lost—

and it is in this I find rest

and take upon me the sweetest yoke

of the Love that loved me until the very end.