I really like homeless people (if you haven’t gotten the idea already).  
 
   The street ministers and I love them, of course. We strive to enable a culture of generosity and intentionality with them, the ones who are often invisible in society. We see that they are created in God’s image and likeness, just like any other human being, and we deeply honor that. 
 
We also just really like them.  

 Whether it’s our friend at the bus stop, recounting his tales of working in a circus, and going to concerts of rock legends like Jimi Hendrix and the Rolling Stones.  

Or the man in a wheelchair who waved at us like we were old friends, asked us intentional questions, and told us, "I love you guys!” as we said goodbye.  

Or the man who called us his angels after we stopped to talk to him for only a few minutes.  

    Their presence is a delight, and their poverty doesn’t make them any less delightful. The underlying love that we have for them as human beings helps us to rejoice in their goodness, but this “surface” joy leads us to that deeper, agape love as well.  

Unfortunately, I’ve come to realize that my perception of love—especially God’s love—has been quite skewed.  
 
     With the pain I’ve endured over the last few years, I’ve seen Him as a domineering Father, standing over me, arms crossed tightly over His chest and sternly saying, “I’m doing this for your own good, deal with it.” All the while as my heart is in pieces, and I’m wondering what I did wrong in just trying to follow His will. 
 
    I began to consider the idea that this image was *probably* a lie...I mean, people in the Church keep saying that He’s good, so I should probably listen, right?  

He opened my eyes.  
 
Instead of arms across His chest, His arms are outstretched on a wooden beam.  

He looks down on me, not because He’s standing, but because He’s hanging.  

Instead of cold, indifferent eyes, they are full of tenderness and compassion.  

Instead of being far removed from my affliction, He shares in it and more.  
 
Oh. I see.  
 
    I then remembered the delight I experience with our homeless friends, the joy of their presence despite the messiness of their poverty. How much I just like them with all their quirks and stories.  
 
And in that, He whispered, “Don’t you think that’s how I feel about you too?” 

 The Delight of God  
 

     There are two extremes in the perception of love: one, the idea that it is solely accompanied by comfortable, and pleasant feelings. If it’s in the least bit inconvenient, it’s not love. The other is that it has absolutely no sense of delight or tenderness or joy, and only operates on a harsh, disciplinarian manner, intent on perfecting the other. Both are equally harmful, because although they seek to “will the good of the other,” as Aquinas puts it, they do not consider the unique, specific needs of the person at that very moment. Both ends could easily damage one’s spiritual life. 
 
If you’re like me, tending towards the joyless end of the spectrum, you know in your mind that God loves you. It’s been said repeatedly. Yet, our perspective is skewed—perhaps by our sin, others, or painful circumstances in our lives.  

   Have we ever thought, though, that God not only loves us, but He likes us? That He genuinely enjoys who He made us to be? 

    If I, an imperfect, broken human being, can rejoice in the goodness of others who are also broken, then how much more does the perfectly good God take delight in us? 
 
“The Lord takes delight in His people,” proclaims the Psalmist (Psalm 149: 4). Isaiah declares, “you will be called Hepzibah...for Yahweh delights in you,” essentially saying to Israel, “you will be called ‘Delight’...for the Lord delights in you" (Isaiah 62:4).  
 
All this despite our poverty. 

His love is all-encompassing: deep, overwhelming, bottomless, like the trenches of the oceans; but also tender and kind like a pleasant breeze on a summer day.  

Give Him permission to rejoice over you, to delight in you, to like you.  



Hazel Jordan is an Office & Communications Assistant at Our Lady of Lourdes. She is currently pursuing a Master's in Theology at the St. Paul Seminary School of Divinity. A recent graduate of the University of St. Thomas, she continues to be active in the faith community there, leading and developing a street ministry program that forms students to encounter the homeless in the Twin Cities. Among other things, she is a self-taught artist and musician, proudly acquiring graphic design and guitar/songwriting skills!