A few weeks ago I drove home from an event where one of the
speakers used an example that triggered a painful reminder of my body’s
brokenness. I was furious. Problem was I had no space left to cram my
anger. All that anger began bubbling over
until I finally let loose an angry tirade viciously attacking God. It was not pretty.
As soon as I finished an internal battle began. On one hand I instantly regretted what I had
said, but on the other hand I didn’t. I
had said exactly what I was feeling.
Back and forth I argued with myself until I came to the conclusion that
it didn’t matter because I had already gone too far. But then a quiet question:
“Do you love Jack?”
“Umm… Of course! What does that have to do with anything?”
“What about when he
screams at you and hits and kicks the floor?”
“Don’t be ridiculous.
I still love him.”
“Why?”
“Because I am doing
something good for him…because I love him. He just doesn’t understand yet.”
“I see… And it’s okay
for him to scream at you and hit and kick the floor?”
“Not exactly. It okay for him to have those feelings. He needs to process what he is feeling but I
would like him to express those feelings more appropriately… Ohhhhh”
I drove the rest of the way home in silence. Trying to grasp this idea that Jesus loves me
as much as (and more than) I love the little ones in my life.
Is there someone in your life who not matter what they do
you love them? Maybe a pet? Or maybe there is someone in your life who no
matter what you do they love you…
God loves us infinitely more.
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