He loves me, still, even in these…

He loves me, even in these…

…defeats.

I see these defeats, as filthy rags.

God sees my defeats, as part of me.

He loves me, still.

He loves me, even in these…

…mistakes and missteps.

I see these mistakes and missteps, as disqualifiers.

God sees my mistakes and missteps, as making me.

He loves me, still.

He loves me, even in these…

…regrets.

I see these regrets as shameful things.

God sees my regrets, as shaping me.

He loves me, still.

“Still?”, I ask of Him.

“How, can You love me, still?

After all of my defeats, after all of my mistakes and missteps, after all of my regrets, how can You love me, still?”

Humbled, by my defeats, by my mistakes and missteps, by my regrets, I bow my head, in shame, and can not look into God’s eyes.

“I love thee. Not in spite of these things. Nay, BECAUSE of these things, do I love thee.”

“Lift up your head, My Precious One”, God said, gently, to me. “I love you, still.”

“Only one who has tried will find defeat, mistakes, missteps and regrets. “

“What you see as filthy rags, I see as precious garments fit for the daughter/son of a King!”

“Lift up your head!” God commanded me. “I love you, still.”

Lifting, my head, I look into the eyes of He, who loves me, still, even in these…

loved by Him as are you,

Cassandra

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