I was walking back from my mailbox yesterday, and as I made my way under the canopy of great oaks that curled overhead across my driveway I prayed. I thanked God for the cool breeze that blew across my face on a sultry, summer afternoon, and I thanked him for the blue sky all around. It led me to [praise] Him for family, forgiveness, and being redeemed. Then the next praise that fell from my lips caused me to pause in awe.
Thank you that you love me anyway.
The weight of that statement! Just the night before my four-year-old had done something I had instructed her not to do. When confronted with her guilt she had burst into remorseful tears.
As I held her and explained the lesson I was hoping she had learned, I said, “you know Momma still loves you, right? I’ll love you no matter what. Nothing would ever change that.”
This was the thing I wanted my children to know most. I wanted them to understand my unconditional love as their parent.
When I walked down my driveway and considered my past, I was grateful for the unconditional love of my Heavenly Father.
Even as I had labored under the heavy chains of alcohol addiction he had loved me.
All the while that I had led a life that went against everything the Bible taught, He had loved me.
He loved me while I sat in strip clubs, and He loved me when I woke hungover from another night of binge drinking.
