The woman who was at the front of the room told me to close my eyes and allow a memory to return to my mind. A memory where I felt alone and scared.
My mind took me back to age 13. I was upstairs rocking a baby to sleep. I felt alone, scared, and confused. There were tears running down my cheeks.
The woman at the front of the room told me to keep my eyes closed and imagine Jesus there.
My mind returned to the upstairs rocking chair. I saw Jesus there, sitting on the crib rail. Hangin out with me. Smiling at me like a loving Father.
In that moment, a million memories flooded back to me. I wanted to see Him there with me when I was alone and scared.
He was there with me in the Trans Am when I was 5 years old.
He was there with me when I was begging to go home.
He was there with me when I hated myself and I was done doing life my way… all messed up.
He was there with me when I was 18, sobbing, and driving home in the rain with the windows down for four hours after my first heartbreak.
His arms were open when I ran to Him.
He was there with me when I walked down the aisle. For some reason that sentence was difficult to write.
He was there with me in that house where anger was the roof and bitterness lived in the walls.
He was there with me when I packed up my kids and left.
He was there with me when I felt defeated and didn’t think I could survive as a single mom.
He whispered to me that I could, and that I just had to hold onto Him.
He called me His beautiful daughter.
I finally felt like I belonged to someone who genuinely loved me.
He was there with me every time tears fell from my eyes.
I recently heard someone say that they’ve never met anyone who remained unchanged after experiencing agape love from God.
I believe that.
I believe I’ve experienced that.
He will always be here with me.
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