The first sunny Sunday in September after my birth, Mom and Dad trundled me off to the church my father pastored in Dayton, Ohio. They started a habit I’ve kept my entire life. I married a minister. I teach Sunday school, and I play the piano in morning worship.
But I was 31 years old before I truly believed God loved me. Why? I developed an orphan heart. I saw God not as a loving father an—“Abba, Daddy” I could approach freely—but as a harsh taskmaster to be feared. I tried to perform to His rigid standards, but fell woefully short of the perfection I believed He demanded.
I wore myself out trying to be good enough to please God until I was sick, tired, depressed, and utterly burned out. One life-changing night, a Spirit-filled minister confronted me, saying, “Sister—you don’t believe God loves you.”
I bristled! I resisted! I wanted to argue . . . but I couldn’t. I knew he was right. God had bared my soul. I believed in God’s existence. I believed in His goodness. I believed in His love for other people, but not for me.
God knew this truth, but I needed to admit it to myself. Through tears, I confessed my perfectionism, performance, and pessimism. I said aloud, “Lord, I receive Your love.” Peace like I’d never known flooded my whole being, and the power and joy released by my acceptance of God’s love remains to this day—almost thirty years later.
Why does it matter? My orphan heart had distanced me from my loving Father. It made me resent Him in too many ways to count. It turned me into a whiny, self-pitying, shell of the woman God created me to be.
Jeremiah quotes my Heavenly Father as saying, “I have loved you with an everlasting love; I have drawn you with unfailing kindness” (31:3b). God has never NOT loved me, and He will love me forever.
Are you like me? If so, follow my blog and we will explore together the fullness, beauty, and majestic power of God’s love. He has NEVER not loved you.
