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I think I might be like Saul. I was listening to a sermon as I cleaned my kitchen, and as the words were spoken aloud through my speakers, the weight of them fell heavy on me. The difference, the preacher said, between David and Saul was that David understood, truly knew, how much he was loved by God. Saul and David both did horrible things, but what made the difference, ultimately, was David’s sense deep down that he was beloved.
What is that? What is it to really know that God loves you? To not doubt that the Creator of all delights in you? When I became a mother, I knew more. And I instantly knew that God loved my girls. That He sang over them. That He held them in the palm of His hand. The words spoken and recorded in Zephaniah became real to me. My girls were beloved. But me?
If you asked I would say I know God loves me. But 35 years into this walk, I don’t know if I really have felt it.
Today I am sharing at Em's Imperfect Prose, where we gather each Thursday to write out the broken, the beautiful, the redeemed. Join us there?
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