The Love Encounter

Modern Day – 2020

“He is Love Himself, and His name is Jesus. This weekend, pray that you will encounter Him—even if no one else does, pray that you will.”
– Pastor E.

Those words struck me deeply.

They didn’t just inspire me—they awakened a hunger I didn’t even know I had. I had always known I was loved by my family. But still, there was something missing. A quiet emptiness in the depths of me. A void no human love had ever been able to reach.

I didn’t know what I was missing until I realized it was Him.

The retreat was coming up on Friday. After school, I threw my bag on my bed and walked straight into my closet. Not to change clothes—but to pray.
I didn’t want to be just another person attending a retreat. I wanted something real; An encounter. I whispered the same prayer over and over: “God, please meet me. Let me encounter You.”

The day finally came.

Of course, the thoughts tried to sneak in: “God might touch others, but not you. It’s not for you.”
But that desire in me was louder than the doubt.
It whispered back: “But what if it is? What if He does? What if He’s been waiting all along?”

The next day during the retreat, we talked about the prodigal son. We discussed how his father ran to meet him, embraced him, and welcomed him home. And how God is still doing the same today.

I used to avoid altar calls. I didn’t like standing up in front of people. But this time, something shifted. I was too desperate to care.

I went up front and stood. Waiting. Hoping.
That same quiet prayer in my heart: “God, I want more of You.”

And then it happened.

A chaperone wrapped her arms around me, and I broke.
I wailed. I screamed. I cried so deeply I didn’t even care who heard. Love swept through the room like a wave—and in that moment, it felt like it was just me and Him.

With every tear, something left me—and His love entered.
His voice wasn’t loud, but it was clear: “I have always been here.”

The peace I felt was beyond words.

You’d think that was the end. On the last day of camp, my pastor spoke. He said, “If you want to receive the Holy Spirit, ask God earnestly. Open up your heart.”

I dropped to my knees.

My whole being—my voice, my limbs, my soul—cried out: “More of You! I want to burn for You!”
And He came.
Love came.

Looking back now, I finally understand the woman with the alabaster box.

⸻

Jerusalem

The disciples were chatting among themselves when a woman quietly walked into the room.

She said nothing. Her head was covered. Her face hidden beneath her scarf.
In her trembling hands, she held an alabaster box.

Judas noticed her first, narrowing his eyes with suspicion. She made her way to the feet of Jesus—no permission, no introduction, no explanation. Just her and the box.

She knelt.

Then she opened it.

The sweet aroma of the oil filled the room as she poured it on His feet. She began to weep.
Not a quiet cry, but a deep, aching cry—like someone pouring out their soul.

The murmurs began.

“What is she doing?”
“That perfume is worth a fortune!”
“What a waste.”

Judas couldn’t hold his tongue. “Hey! Stop that! Don’t you know how expensive that oil is?”

But she didn’t flinch.

She kept pouring.
And crying.
And wiping His feet with her hair.

To her, the oil was costly—but He was worth more.
She didn’t care about the price. In that moment, the most valuable thing in the room was not what was in her hands. It was the One before her eyes.

She was so vulnerable before Him. It was as though the entire room disappeared.
Just her and Jesus.

You know, that’s how Love is.
It doesn’t have an intruder. It doesn’t allow a third party.

Love is intimate. Personal. Holy.

Jesus didn’t stop her. He didn’t shame her. He watched her with love.
Then He turned to Judas and said:

“Leave her alone. What she’s done is beautiful. She’s preparing Me for burial.”
“You may see it as waste, but she sees Me.”

⸻

That woman didn’t have a time-limited encounter. She walked into something greater.

Because the love of God is not a moment. It’s not a rush of emotion that fades.

His love has no bounds.
It covers a multitude.
It transforms.
It heals.
It calls you by name.
He is Love Himself.

And this, friend, is The Love Encounter.