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I never expected to be someone who cried through worship songs about the love of Jesus. For most of my life, that kind of language felt foreign—meant for other people, people who seemed wired for emotion in ways I wasn’t. But something shifted, slowly and steadily, and one morning it caught up with me.

I love songs that talk about the love of Jesus. I didn’t used to. I never really understood them, and I certainly couldn’t relate to those emotional women who waxed poetic about Jesus. What was up with that?

When I was very young, a cult tried to make me hate and fear Him. I won’t go into detail here, but they would assign a man from their group to play the role of a false Jesus—someone who encouraged me to trust him, only to turn away from my pleas or even assist the others in tormenting me. It was nothing like the real Jesus, of course, but I was too young to know that. So while I may not have actively hated the true Jesus, I didn’t think much of Him either. No trust. Certainly no love. Only dutiful obedience rooted in fear.

But over the years—through healing ministry, through growing in faith, and yes, through learning to trust—I’ve discovered that His love for me is very real. Very personal. Very true and strong. And the same Jesus who patiently rewrote my understanding of Him can do the same for you—gently, steadily, in ways that meet you where you are.

On Sunday mornings during worship, we often sing about the love of Jesus. And every time the lyrics speak of the depth of His love, my tears come again. Last week one of my favorites was on the list.

The first line of the chorus says, “Now I can trade these ashes in for beauty.” And that’s exactly what I’ve done—traded the ashes of torment and dissociation for the beauty He sees in me. The beauty He has shown me.

But before that lovely chorus begins, the singer declares, “You’ve won my heart.” I’ve always loved this song—the haunting melody, the words of trust and declaration. But in the past several months, I’ve begun to realize just how far He has brought me: from ashes to beauty, from death to life. I can see now how He gently wooed me, drawing me in with His steady, tender persistence. He never pushed. Never demanded. Never grew angry at my lack of response. He simply loved me toward Himself.

And now I know—He’s won my heart.

(The song is by Don Moen, titled “At the Foot of the Cross.”)