I found a lie. And it was a sneaky one too. I was chatting to Daddy about Jesus about what I was processing the other day, and I came up against a particularly ugly realisation. I had put Jesus in a box and stopped talking to Him, because I had somehow started believing that He didn't love me. That I was just too unworthy for Him to remotely care about. I could believe that He chose to die for the whole world, but excluded myself from that. I realised that I had taken the evidence of the everyday, where I was (am?) feeling lonely and isolated and translated that onto the King of the Universe. Using experience of the world and using that to define God is never going to take you to a place of freedom and truth.
The good thing? Now I get to fall in love with Him all over again, and find out again how He feels about all of us. And how incredible is that?
No comments:
Post a Comment