One of the ways I experience God’s love is in my enjoyment of story.
Does that make any sense?
What I mean is that when I lie awake in bed at night with ideas, characters, and stories tripping capriciously through my mind, I feel like God’s beloved. When I read incredible writing that makes my brain fizz and my fingers itch, I feel confident that God is good and that He loves me deeply. Why else would he offer me something so unfathomably beautiful?
Beauty, period. Why invent loveliness, color, sound, except out of sheer grace?
And for me, story. The delight of it all is like a resting place.