God’s Love is Still Reckless

When “Reckless Love” first came out in 2017, I, like many others in Christian worshipdom, fell out of my seat. It was one of those songs with that certain touch, an anointing like “Oceans” or “10,000 Reasons” that all the charts and sanctuary set lists confirmed.

I first heard “Reckless Love” by some female Bethel vocalists and didn’t think much of it at the time. But then I heard Cory Asbury’s own rendition of the song in a trailer for The Heart of Man, a phenomenal documentary mixed with fictional narrative elements, a story reminiscent of the Prodigal Son.

Reminiscent of, well, all of us.

We sang “Reckless Love” at our inaugural YOB retreat last year. One of our guys led the song with both his voice and viola, and it was such a powerful personal expression of worship. I’ll always associate this song with that brotherly weekend in the Blue Ridge.

For the last year and a half, though, as many songs just do, it faded. You don’t hear it on Christian radio as frequently. For the times I have heard it come up in the car or on Spotify at coffee shops, I’ve tended to skip to a new song.

“Reckless Love”? For the 13,000th time? Eh, maybe later.

This Sunday, I returned to my church in Asheville for the first time in many months. I’ve been away all summer, and it was actually my first time at any church since May or June. Even though I still don’t know many people there, I found it refreshing to be back in the company of believers nonetheless.

How simple and profound to sit alongside them and sing about Jesus and for Jesus, together. Coming to the Table together, too.

After a couple worship songs, the electric guitar strings belted a familiar intro. One I’d not heard in a church setting for many, many months.

“Reckless Love” returned to my life. And I couldn’t skip it this time.

I got taken back to a retreat alongside 46 dear brothers. Got taken back to images of a Father slashing through a jungle to reach His son trapped in a cave.

A leaving of the 99 to rescue the 1 — two numbers that will always be associated with this song the rest of my life.

I realized anew the strength of a song. And the power of truth. That repetitive though songs may be (along with other stories like certain cinematic universes and iterations of Chicago-themed TV shows), the Truth never loses its power.

God’s love is still reckless. Even when I get tired of it. Or feel utterly unworthy of it.

This summer away, I’ve known the reckless love of a God who never gives up on me. A God who actually chases me around the country, hearing my broken heart, filling my broken heart, and providing.

A God who sees my every wandering, geographic and spiritual — every night spent in my car and every depraved click of the mouse.

A God who follows me through minefields of broken relationships.

A God who follows me to the cave of my twisted desires.

A God who follows me home.