Read by You Alone

When you send a message through Signal, the app encrypts it end-to-end — meaning only the person you're writing to can unlock and read it. Not Signal's servers. Not hackers. Not the company itself. The message travels across the entire internet, touching countless servers along the way, but it remains sealed — readable only by the one it was meant for.

That's a picture of how God loves you.

In a world of noise and surveillance, where algorithms track your every click and data brokers sell your preferences to strangers, God's love moves in the opposite direction. It doesn't broadcast you to the masses — it seeks you out specifically. The Psalmist marveled, "You have searched me, Lord, and you know me" (Psalm 139:1). Not me-in-general. Me. Every anxious thought, every midnight doubt, every hope too fragile to say out loud.

The Apostle Paul wrote that nothing — not death, not life, not height, not depth — can separate us from the love of God (Romans 8:38–39). Like an encrypted message that can only be opened by its intended recipient, you are known completely by One who holds that knowledge with perfect security and perfect tenderness.