Thursday, September 29, 2011

He Loved Me First

"I'm amazed by your strong faith," she told me.  "How much you love God, everyone can see it - what is your secret?"  My daughter's eyes probed mine.  

In the space of two seconds, I saw rapid-fire, vivid images in my memory - the stories of decades compressed into just a few moments.  

My eyes filled with tears.  "It's simple, honey.  He rescued me.  He loved me first, and He met me where I was and rescued me ... from myself."  Then I told her the story of a few of those images I had just seen.  And yes, I fumbled for words sometimes - but she saw my heart and knew I was sharing it with her.

I told her how unhappy, how desperate for love I had been when I was just a few years younger than she.  How I had searched for it in so many different ways and people, and nothing satisfied.  And then (and at this point I couldn't stop my tears from flowing at the memory) I told her how He came to me, and literally saved me from a path that would have led to my death (or worse.)  How He loved me the way I was and filled that empty hole, healed me from the inside out, listened when I needed someone to understand, and let me lean on Him when I didn't have the strength to stand.  There was so much more I wanted to say ... but I'd learned enough in my own recent healing to keep it simple. 

Her eyes misted over as I described my before picture - and she hugged me when I was finished describing my work in progress picture.  "Someday, Mom," she said softly, "I hope I can have the kind of love for God that you have."  

"You will."  I took a deep breath, and wiped the tears from her cheeks.  

"You're already on your way," I thought.

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