Thankful for His Love
I often remember the little girl I used to be. She was sweet. She had so much to offer. She wanted to love everyone equally.
This little girl was really cute. Her mother always told her, “your eyes are very dark, they are dark like the night. They are beautiful because I can see a little light, the reflection of the moon.”
My mother often told me that since I was born the light in my eyes captivated every person who came in contact with me. She would tell me stories of how I shared my entire world with one look and how I communicated wisdom and life.
But, after I turner five, this little light went off. Someone turned it off. He turned it off the second he touched the little girl’s fragile innocence.
He used to tell the little girl that she was ugly and unloved. He told her she was stupid and to seal her pain, he often beat her with a leather and iron belt—if she resisted his touch.
She began to live in a spiritual realm where the darkness taunted her, she actually dwelled in that darkness. There aren’t many pictures of her because she was always sad.
My mother told me that my eyes were now mysterious. She didn’t know me anymore. I did not allow anyone into my heart. My eyes still captivated everyone and they wanted to know my thoughts, they wanted to know me. But, I did not let them in past the brick wall.
As I grew up, I dwelled in the lies that I was ugly, stupid, and unloved. This was my truth. Anyone who tried to approach me was damned, I scared them with my words and my actions. I was further away from people than the sun. The only thing they knew about me was what my eyes communicated, pitch darkness: hate and mistrust. This was consuming me.
One day, a man came to rescue me from myself. He walked up to me gently and with caution. I could not resist His presence. His eyes were fire. His feet were made of gold and His hair white as snow. His voice was harsher than a storm. He lifted me and carried me in His warm arms. He took me away, far……….far…….away. He wrapped me with love. He. Wrapped. Me. In. Love.
He whispered words of love. He told me I was more precious than a ruby. He said, “you are my precious one. I have designed you beautiful, bright, and full of love. You are my little one. My child. My lily among thorns. My Rose of Sharon. I love you my young child. I AM your creator, Christ, your savior,” with these words He both conquered my heart and set me free.
Christ. Is. My. Savior. I am thankful for my Savior. I am thankful for His love.