The Delighting God: A Shepherd's Reflection on Divine Affection

We wrestle with the iron rod, striving to hold fast, and the sheer effort can leave us feeling inadequate, even unworthy. The constant call to repentance, the weight of responsibility in building Zion, the scrutiny of our own hearts—it's easy to fall into the trap of believing God's love is a reward for achievement, a conditional blessing earned through unwavering obedience. But what if the very act of striving, of seeking, is met with a gaze of profound and abiding joy?

Lisa Harper’s recent sermon on TBN, drawing from those poetic Hebrew passages so often overlooked, cuts through the noise and offers a balm to the weary soul. It's a powerful testament to the enduring truth that God's love isn't a transactional arrangement; it’s a gift, freely given, even—and especially—on our “stretchy pants days,” as she eloquently puts it.

The prophet Zephaniah, speaking of a future restoration, proclaims, “Sing, O daughter of Zion; let out your voice with joy, for now the Lord your God *is* righteous, the Holy One of Israel has brought you salvation” (Zephaniah 3:14). This isn’t a conditional deliverance; it's a consequence of His character, His unwavering love. Similarly, Isaiah’s prophecies of comfort speak of a Shepherd who “will feed his flock as a shepherd doth feed his flock, and he will gather the lambs with his arm, and gently lead those that are with young” (Isaiah 40:11). This is not a transactional shepherd; this is a loving protector who delights in His sheep, even the most vulnerable among them.

The Brethren have consistently emphasized the importance of seeking spiritual understanding through the Word. President Eyring has taught us about the power of “seeing” the Lord’s love through scripture. This isn’t merely intellectual assent; it’s a profound, experiential knowing that settles deep within the soul. It’s the Spirit bearing witness that we are, indeed, cherished and valued, not for what we *do*, but for who we *are*—children of God.

The temple ordinances, the covenants we make, the priesthood authority we hold—these are not earned merits. They are opportunities to draw closer to a God who desires fellowship with us, who delights in our efforts, however imperfect they may be. Think of the sacrament, a weekly renewal of covenants, a constant assurance of His love and forgiveness. It’s a testament to the fact that even in our weakness, we are embraced by His grace.

The challenge, then, is to cultivate a posture of humility and receptivity, to quiet the voices of doubt and condemnation and listen for that gentle whisper of divine affection. How often do we, like the prodigal son’s older brother, resent the father’s generosity? How often do we fail to recognize the joy He takes in our very existence?

Let us turn to the scriptures with renewed purpose, not merely to extract doctrine, but to encounter the heart of a loving God. Let us seek to understand His voice, not through rigid adherence to rules, but through a deepening awareness of His presence in our lives. Let us strive to become more like Him, not through relentless self-improvement, but through embracing the grace He so freely offers.

Consider this: what scriptures, when read with an open heart, have most profoundly conveyed to you the sense of God's delight?