The Love Letter

Remember high school? Before smartphones took over our lives, when cell phones had actual buttons and texting cost 10 cents per message? Back then, if you really wanted to express your feelings to someone special, you didn't send a quick text. You wrote a love note.

These weren't just casual messages. They were crafted with care—decorated with hearts, folded in creative ways, and delivered through trusted friends. The effort alone communicated something profound: I care enough to take my time with you.

The recipient treasured these notes, keeping them in shoeboxes under their beds. Why? Because when relationships hit rough patches—and they always did—you could pull out that letter and remember. Remember why you fell in love in the first place. Remember the promises made. Remember that the love holding you together was supposed to be stronger than whatever was trying to tear you apart.

But here's the problem with high school relationships: immaturity. Young people make promises they haven't developed the discipline to keep. "I'll never leave you." "I'll always be there." They mean it when they say it—they just haven't become the kind of person who can maintain it.

After enough broken promises, we build walls. We protect ourselves. And those walls don't just keep out the bad—they keep out the good too.etter You've Been Ignoring

What if I told you there's a love letter addressed specifically to you—one written by someone who cannot break a promise?

This letter took approximately 1,500 years to complete. The author used over 40 different transcribers spanning three continents. It's been delivered to you through countless mutual friends, waiting for the moment when your walls might come down just long enough to let something new in.

That love letter is the Bible.

Before you roll your eyes, stay with me. This isn't about religious obligation or guilt. This is about understanding what you've been handed and why it matters.

In 2 Timothy 3:16-17, we find these words: "All Scripture is God-breathed and is useful for teaching, rebuking, correcting and training in righteousness, so that the servant of God may be thoroughly equipped for every good work."

Notice the phrase "God-breathed." This isn't just inspiration in the creative sense—like God gave someone a vague idea and they translated it as best they could. The original Greek term means this is direct communication from deity. Every word is exactly what God wanted you to hear because it's Him speaking.

This love letter serves four distinct functions, all leading to one purpose: to equip you completely.

First, it teaches. Scripture shapes what you learn, giving you God's worldview. Without it, we absorb whatever culture is currently promoting—and those values change constantly. What's celebrated today is condemned tomorrow. But truth doesn't age out. Truth is truth because it's true.

Second, it rebukes and corrects. This isn't punishment—it's guidance. Like someone gently steering you back onto the path when you've drifted too far left or right. It helps you recognize when you've strayed and shows you how to realign with God's will.

Third, it trains you in righteousness. The Greek word Paul uses here refers to young soldiers being prepared for battle. This isn't classroom training—it's combat preparation. It doesn't just teach you right from wrong; it trains you to desire what's right and resist what's wrong. Because that's a battle.

Finally, it equips you for every good work. If love is the supreme ethic—and it is—then obedience to biblical instruction is how you export the greatest amount of godly love into the world.

Here's where it gets uncomfortable. How many of us own multiple Bibles but haven't read even one cover to cover? We have Bible apps on our phones, dusty Bibles from grandparents, and yet we remain unfamiliar with their contents.

And it shows. It reveals itself in three specific ways:

We don't know how to fight spiritual battles. In Ephesians 6:17, Paul calls the Word of God "the sword of the Spirit." If you don't know what Scripture says, you're fighting unarmed. You might have all the other armor, but you have no weapon. Culture can't pull you out of depression. You need to quote Scripture like Jesus did when He was tempted.

We don't love other people well. Jesus said, "By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another" (John 13:35). Peter wrote, "Now that you have purified yourselves by obeying the truth so that you have sincere love for one another, love one another deeply, from the heart" (1 Peter 1:22). Knowing the truth is the precursor to loving people well. If you're struggling to love others, it's a sign you need to return to the letter.

We treat God like He didn't write it. Imagine pouring your heart into a letter, spending years crafting it, then discovering six months later that the recipient never bothered to open it. That's how God feels when we question Him in ways that reveal we haven't read what He already told us. When we wonder if He sees us, if He cares, if He'll provide—the answers are all in the letter He already sent.

Even when we know the letter exists, we sometimes disrespect it in three ways:

We ignore it. We stop reading altogether, and in doing so, we drift from His heart.

We distrust it. We know what it says but don't really believe it. Remember how the enemy first came between humanity and God? He got Eve to distrust what God said: "Did God really say that?" When you question God's motives, you start believing the enemy's message instead.

We disobey it. Sometimes we know what it says, we believe it's true, and we don't do it anyway. Jesus said, "Anyone who loves me will obey my teaching" (John 14:23). It's hard to claim you love the author when you refuse to follow His words.

Here's the good news: the author hasn't changed His mind about you. His tone hasn't changed. His message is still love.

You are not reading about God when you open Scripture—you're reading from Him. Every page is a piece of His heart addressed to yours. When you live shaped by Scripture, you fight better, love deeper, and walk closer.

Maybe it's been a while since you opened the letter. Maybe life got busy. Maybe heartbreak built walls. Maybe disappointment made you stop reading altogether.

But the author is still writing to you. He started this letter before the beginning—"In the beginning God created"—and He finished it with every promise signed the same way: "With love, your Father."

The question isn't whether God will keep His promises. The question is: do you know what He promised? And when He's keeping His word, do you recognize it?

There's only one way to find out.

Open the letter.