Amor Vincit Omnia
“Be still.” These were the fruits of my prayer after my confessor told me to find a Scriptural verse that I could carry with me throughout the semestral break. This has been a real challenge for me as someone who always wants to be in control of whatever happens along the way. The invitation to “be still” sounded simple, yet it pierced deeply into my restless heart. It reminded me that there is grace in surrender, that there is peace in letting God take the lead. Reflecting on this thought, I am led back to where this stillness is truly rooted: in God’s way of loving. Lao Tzu, a Chinese philosopher, once wrote: “Watch your thoughts, they become your words. Watch your words, they become your actions. Watch your actions, they become your habits. Watch your habits, they become your character, and your character becomes your destiny.” This wisdom resonates with me as I reflect on stillness. When I allow my thoughts to be formed by God’s love, my words, actions, and even habits gradually align with His will. Stillness is not passivity, it is an awareness, attentiveness to the quiet movement of God’s Spirit within. It is about trusting that God’s love is shaping my being, to the point of making it a way of living. This reality also enables me to love others as well because for the one who is loved cannot contain that love to oneself. St. John beautifully expressed this reality: “This is love: not that we loved God, but that He loved us.” God’s love always takes the first step. It is not earned or deserved, it is freely given. As I reflected further, I realized that God’s love reveals itself in three profound ways: sacrificial, filial, and preferential.
First, God’s love is sacrificial. The word sacrifice comes from the Latin sacer “sacred” and facere “to make”, meaning “to make sacred” or “to set apart.” In His love, God set Himself apart, not to remain distant, but to give Himself wholly for us. On the Cross, we see this love fully revealed: a love that empties itself for the sake of others. St. Augustine beautifully expressed this when he said that God “cares for us as if we were the only one to care for.” This truth humbles me. It tells me that stillness begins with recognizing that I am loved as who I am and who I will become. I don’t need to prove myself to be worthy of that love. God’s sacrifice has already declared my worth.
Second, God’s love is filial. It is the love of a Father who embraces His children with tenderness and patience. In prayer, I encounter this filial love most clearly, especially when I bring my vulnerabilities to Him. Prayer becomes the space where I can be my true self before God: imperfect, wounded, yet deeply loved. What God asks of me is simple, to bring my weaknesses, imperfections, and sins constantly to Him, to walk with Him even when I stumble, to never hide anything from His gaze. It reminded me of the story of St. Ignatius of Loyola, in one of this prayer periods, he asked the Lord "What else should I offer to You? I have given up my job and my wealth" and then the Lord replied "Give me your sins." Even the the most secret and darkest corners of life, God sees them and makes it as an instrument to love you as who you are. To be still is to be real before God, to stop pretending, to stop performing, and to simply be. It teaches me that I don’t need to control everything, I only need to walk with Him faithfully, as a child walking beside a loving Father.
Third, God’s love is preferential. God’s love chooses. It is personal, unique, and unrepeatable. Each one of us is an originality, a singular result of God’s creative love, it is in such uniqueness that He has loved us even before we were born. This truth enables us to think that among the billions of people in the world, God sees us and calls us by name. His love is not generic, it is intimate and intentional. He does not love me as part of a crowd, but as someone chosen, set apart, and cherished. To be still, then, is to rest in that truth, to stop comparing myself with others and to recognize that my life has a distinct purpose shaped by God’s loving plan.
Stillness has taught me to stop focusing on how much I love God, and to start marveling at how much He loves me. It’s all about God’s love for me, not my love for Him. Everything begins and ends there. When I remember this, I can trust that all things will work together for good, for those who love Him. As I look back on how God has shown His love throughout my journey, I see moments of struggle, uncertainty, and surrender, all transformed into grace. In every challenge, He has been teaching me to be still and to trust Him, And so, with St. Teresa de los Andes, I can say with peace and confidence: “Since that first embrace, Jesus did not let me go.” Indeed, He never has, and in that stillness, I find rest in His love.
