How many people does it take to tell you something and actually believe it is true?
To tell you that the objective of life is not to just escape through with the least amount of scars, and to bemoan the ones you carry?
To tell you that you are beautiful, a treasure, worth a suffering and a sacrifice?
To tell you that your sins and flaws and edges and grotesque deformities don’t negate unconditional love from your Father in heaven?
Wrestling with the truth leaves you tired. I’ve been mulling over all these things, which have come to light this semester as I’ve been reading and writing and contemplating my life and post-Year-4 existence. I’ve been studying Ruth and Hosea and Genesis and 1 Samuel and realizing the same God who was there in the beginning has always been relational and has always mourned the disobedience of his people.
I have read examples over and