"But God showed His love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us."
While we were there, I lay in bed with tears leaking all over the pressed pillow case because I am ungrateful for my salvation. I take it for granted. I judge those who aren't, and I make myself sick. How can I belong to a loving God when I am...unloving?
I don't know how to do it. I don't know how to love when I am hated. I only know that that's exactly what Jesus did for me. He DIED for me when I hated Him, and OH GOD, how can I look like You? How do I show compassion to the tormented soul and the darkened mind?
The way You did for me?
We leave as a wounded family, driving silently away. No sound in the car but intermittent deep sighs until we reach the interstate then we all break into prayer and praise. What power do we have but these? Thanksgiving?
Praise God from Whom all blessings flow. Praise Him for the gift of precious salvation. Praise Him for the very Blood of Christ which was abundantly spilled. Do you get that?
Praise Him that JESUS SAID.
"It is finished."
It. Is. Finished.
Praise God for suffering. Praise God for persecution. Praise God that you are hated. Praise God that you are a stench to this dying world. Praise God that His Holy Spirit dwells inside you, giving you the heads up. Praise God for His love and His divine sacrifice and for those things like grace and mercy. Praise God that He rules over the angels, and that He commands them to help you. Praise God for the good stuff. They're ALL His. Freedom and Justice and Righteousness. His. Praise God that He holds all things in His hands. Praise God that He chose to write your name on those hands: the ones with the holes that your life made.
I made the holes in Jesus' hands.
He died for me.
How in all the world can I love like that?