Module 1: God wants to be close to you.

Watch this you tube video of God’s everlasting love https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n6rIlb3eV_w

You Are Wanted

God’s Relentless, Personal Love

Scripture

“I have loved you with an everlasting love; I have drawn you with unfailing kindness.” — Jeremiah 31:3

“Here I am! I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in and eat with that person, and they with me.” — Revelation 3:20

Opening Reflection

There is a quiet lie that many sincere believers carry deep within them — not written anywhere, not said aloud, but felt in the chest on a hard Tuesday morning or a sleepless Sunday night. It sounds something like this: “God loves people, yes. But me? Right now, with everything He knows about me? I’m not so sure.”

That lie has done immeasurable damage. It has kept people performing instead of resting, striving instead of receiving, hiding instead of running home. If that lie has ever lived in you, these two scriptures are written — by the Spirit of God — to evict it.

Devotional

Many Christians know, theologically, that God loves the world. They have heard John 3:16 since childhood. They can recite Romans 8:38–39 without pausing. But there is a difference between knowing that God loves “the world” and believing that God loves you — personally, presently, in this particular season of your particular mess.

We imagine His arms folded. We picture Him leaning back, sighing at our failures, waiting with diminishing patience for us to “fix ourselves” before He gets properly close. We project onto Him the disappointment of every person who has ever pulled away from us when we needed them most.

But look at Jeremiah 31:3 again. It is not a distant announcement from the heavens. It is the Lord “appearing” — drawing near, leaning in, speaking directly to His people. And what does He say? Not “I will love you once you get it together.” Not “I have tolerated you despite everything.” He says: “I have loved you with an everlasting love.”

Everlasting. That word carries no beginning and no end. It means His love for you existed before you were born, before you made the choices you regret, before the seasons when faith felt thin. It means nothing you do today can start it, and nothing you do tomorrow can stop it. It is not love you earn. It is love you are held by.

And then Revelation 3:20 shows us something quietly staggering: it is God doing the pursuing. Not you running toward an indifferent heaven. God standing at your door, knocking. God speaking. God waiting — not with impatience, but with the unhurried persistence of someone who is not afraid of what is on the other side of the door.

You are not tolerated by God — you are wanted.

Even when you hide, He seeks.  Even when you fall, He reaches. Even when you are faithless, He remains faithful.

The image in Revelation is intimate. “I will come in and eat with that person.” In the ancient Near East, sharing a meal was the language of friendship, trust, and covenant. Jesus is not offering you a formal audience. He is offering you a table. He is not asking to inspect you. He is asking to sit with you.

That is the God who has loved you with an everlasting love. Not the God of your worst assumptions about yourself. The One who drew you — with kindness, not condemnation — and who is still drawing you now.

A Practical Story

Ama had not prayed in three months. Not out of anger — just quiet erosion. Work had grown heavy. A friendship had broken badly. She still went to church, still mouthed the words of the hymns, but inside she had pulled back, convinced that God must be tired of her by now. “I keep starting over,” she told a friend. “What’s the point?”

One evening, her niece handed her a torn piece of paper with a single sentence written on it in crayon. Her niece had been in Sunday school that morning. The sentence read: “Jesus is still knocking.”

Ama sat with it for a long time. She had assumed, somewhere in the fog of those three months, that she had drifted too far. That the door had gone quiet. But the image undid her: not a God who had given up and walked away, but a God who was still there. Still knocking. Still wanting in.

She did not have a dramatic breakthrough that night. She simply opened the door — quietly, in a few clumsy sentences that felt more like sighing than praying. But something lifted. Not because she had finally “got it together.” Because she had finally stopped believing the lie that she needed to.

You may be in a season like Ama’s right now. If so, hear this: the knocking has not stopped. The love has not expired. You do not need to clean up before you open the door. You just need to open it.

Reflection Prompts

Take a few quiet minutes with these questions. Write your answers in a journal if you can:

•      When do I feel most distant from God? What is usually happening in my life at those moments?

•      Do I believe, deep down, that God is disappointed in me right now? Where did that belief come from?

•      What would it mean for my daily life if I genuinely believed I was “wanted” by God — not just forgiven?

•      Is there a door I have been keeping shut? What would it take to open it, even just a little?

Prayer

Lord Jesus,

I confess that I have sometimes believed the lie that Your love for me is conditional — that it grows when I do well and shrinks when I fail. Forgive me for projecting my own limitations onto You.

Help me to receive what You have already freely given: a love that is everlasting, not earned. Teach me to hear Your knock on the doors I have kept closed. Give me the courage to open them, knowing that what waits on the other side is not judgement, but a table set for two.

Let Your unfailing kindness be louder today than my loudest doubts. Amen.

Activity Challenge

Set aside five to ten minutes somewhere quiet. Put your phone face down. Close your eyes.

Imagine Jesus standing at the door of your heart — not stern, not impatient, but the way He appears in John 11 before the tomb of Lazarus: fully present, completely unhurried, moved by love.

Now imagine opening the door.

Sit with what comes. Do not force it. Then, when you are ready, pick up a pen and complete this sentence:

“Jesus, I think You would say to me right now…”

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Keep this somewhere you will see it this week. Let it be a daily reminder: the door is open, and He came in.