Unconditional

I realize more and more every day how much I love the color orange.

I liked it in middle school because one of my good friends (Elijah Crutchmer) was obsessed with it. I like it now because it feels like the color of compassion and safety. It's the color of the way God looks at me.

If that's all too abstract for you, let me try a question: How does God "look" at you? Is he angry?

I thought he was angry with me for a long time. Some days I still fall for the same gospel-contradicting lie. I'm great at recognizing failure to live up to my own standards--and God's standards are clearly higher than mine.

So is his mercy.

The eyes are the lamp of the body. You can tell when someone loves you by looking into their eyes. The eyes are the first place I look when I feel insecure--when I'm not sure how someone feels about me, or if our relationship is in the balance.

I remember the day I realized God's "eyes" were kind. That they are not full of expectation and disappointment, or anger and disbelief. God's "eyes" are full of unconditional love.

The unconditional part didn't come easily. It required the brutal, humiliating death of the Son. His lifeblood shed on our behalf is the reason we who are covered by Mercy can declare with confidence that His favor rests upon us.

He does not overlook our sin. He pays the full price for it, opens his arms, and calls us to run to him for refuge.

Believing the lie that my failure leads to the turning of his face makes me spend the day striving to shape myself. I spend hours trying to figure out what went wrong, how I can fix it, and what to promise Him about next time. I give my blood sweat and tears to my physical appearance, my ability to save others from suffering, my ability to surmount hidden struggles, my ability to hold all of the pieces together.

He is so patient. Once I've stopped talking myself in circles long enough to look up, I find him in the same place he's always been. At hand. He is at hand. We need not be anxious (Phil 4:4.) He is near, and he is Love. He is Unconditional love. We are stilled by his present, unconditional love.

Look up.

We recorded this song live late at night. It had been a long day of tracking after a long week of tracking (beautiful, but emotionally draining.) I was frustrated with myself to the point of tears, and abundantly anxious about my decision to step into music in the first place. After listening for a few minutes, Tyler prayed for me and told me to take some space to cry.

My dear friend Jenny brought me a massive plate of cookies an hour later, and shared some words that spoke to the anxious places in my heart. She reminded me that recording is hard, and it's okay to stop.

I remember realizing that I had nothing left in me--and knowing that was the place I needed to be in to record this song.

The "unconditional" part doesn't mean anything if we earn the love. It's enacted in the weak place, where we're out of strength and have nothing left to give.

the cozy tracking setup

This recording was done by candlelight at my weakest point in the process. It's raw and vulnerable (aided by the beautiful, aching cello accompaniment of Hitoshi Yamaguchi, who we tracked later that week.) I hope that as you hear the truth of YHWH's unconditional love washing over my voice as I sing, you'll believe it for yourself.

Friends, would you help me share this song? Send it to a friend, add it to a playlist, share it on social media?

There are too many "perfect" things in this day and age. What if we put our weak foot forward and glory in the way we are held?

With JOY!

Isabelle Thom