Jesus Loved, and He Bled: What It Costs to Love Like Him
“This is my commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you. Greater love has no one than this, that someone lay down his life for his friends.” — John 15:12–13 (ESV)
How did Jesus love? He died. He laid down His life. He loved, and He bled. Before we romanticize love, we must recognize this: the truest love ever shown cost everything. In other words, love isn’t measured by what we feel — it’s measured by what we’re willing to give up.
And holding that kind of love up against the way I love exposes something in me I don’t like to admit. When I love someone, there’s almost always a subtle pull for something in return. I love, and somewhere beneath it all, a quiet ledger is running: I showed up, so I hope they’ll show up for me. I gave, so surely I’ll get. The transaction is almost always there. We call it love, but much of what we do is really an exchange. I’m being honest about that because I doubt I’m the only one. So sit with it for a moment: when you love, is a ledger running for you, too?
Jesus didn’t love that way. “This is my commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you. Greater love has no one than this, that someone lay down his life for his friends” (John 15:12–13, ESV). He loved without a ledger, without expecting a return, without any guarantee we’d ever love Him back. He laid down His life for people who were still His enemies. That’s everything given, with nothing expected back. To love like that — no scorecard, no strings, nothing owed — is almost unfathomable to us.
And look at what the Father did with that love. “Therefore, God elevated him to the place of highest honor and gave him the name above all other names, that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue declare that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father” (Philippians 2:9–11, NLT). God did this not as wages He earned, but as the Father’s vindication of the way of self-giving love. The downward path — the one that looks like losing — is the path God honors, as long as love is what’s driving it. So when love costs us, it isn’t wasted, even when it feels like a loss. We’re walking the very road Jesus walked.
I’ve felt this most in my marriage. Loving my wife well has cost me — not in one dramatic act, but in a thousand small ones. Especially early on, when we were still learning to work through our differences, staying connected and loving her as I’d promised often meant dying to self: holding my tongue, controlling my reactions, letting go of my expectations, choosing her good over my own comfort. I wanted to be part of what God was doing in her life and in our marriage, and that meant sacrifice. Some days, honestly, it felt like bleeding.
And what kept me going when the cost made me want to pull back was remembering how Jesus loved. Loving like Him will hurt at times — and that hurt isn’t a sign that something has gone wrong. It’s the shape of real love. When the pain would normally deter me from loving well, remembering the cross led me right back to it.
Most of us will never face what Jesus faced — literally dying for another. But we encounter the smaller version all the time: the daily dying to self, the quiet bleeding, the love that costs more than it returns. When you’re there, don’t look at the ledger. Look at the cross. He loved, and He bled — and He will give you what you need to do the same.
Big Idea
Jesus loved without a ledger — nothing held back, nothing expected in return. Loving like Him will cost you; remembering how He loved makes it possible. Friends, go and love like Jesus!
Questions to Ponder
When you love someone, is there a quiet ledger running beneath — an expectation of what you’ll get back? Be honest with yourself. And if you don’t see it, ask the Lord to weigh in. What happens in you when love starts to hurt — do you lean in, or pull back? And if you pull back, what does it cost you? When you consider how Jesus loved — laying down His life with nothing held back — how does that change the way you see the cost before you? Does it energize you to love like Jesus, or to reach for excuses instead?
Application
With your journal in hand, get specific. Where are you loving with a ledger — holding back, keeping score, refusing to die to self? Name the relationship and the pattern. Then trace it down. The root: why is the ledger there? Beneath most selfish love lies a fear or a craving — of being hurt, of not feeling valued, of losing control. The payoff: what does keeping score give you? Maybe it feels safe. Maybe it spares you the risk of loving first. Name both, and bring them to the Lord. Confess the selfishness, surrender the fear, and remember you don’t have to protect yourself — the Lord is your protector as you love without holding back. Then take one concrete step of sacrificial love this week: lay something down for someone, expecting nothing back. Afterward, write down what it asked of you and where you saw the Lord meet you. And when the cost tempts you to keep score, don’t look at the ledger. Look at the cross.
Before the Lord — a daily devotional by Blake S. Crawford. Read more and subscribe free at blakescrawford.com/before-the-lord.