Forgiven and Loved

"Child you are forgiven, and child you are loved.
Child you are forgiven and free!"

This is from one of my favorite Jimmy Needham songs.  A song I have been listening to on repeat all week.  It was Christ's love that first compelled me to Him.  I had been so wounded that it seemed to me impossible that someone could love me.  Someone does love me, so much that He died for me.  I couldn't believe it, but the Holy Spirit lead me to believe when it was impossible that I would.  Since then, there has been this conflicting pull in my heart.  The Holy Spirit pulling me up, reassuring me that I am a child of God; and my heart pulling me down retorting that that is too good to be true. 

This past week I was given a clearer look at my sin and wounds.  It looks pretty bleak.  My offenses against God are pretty horrific.  The worst of all is disbelieving that the God of the Universe, who sacrificed His only son - Christ the sinless God man - to be a propitiation for my sins so that I may be God's beloved child, loves me.  This is the worst insult to God.  I know it is, I believe it is, yet I still struggle to believe that the by nature pure blood is for me.  Doesn't that seem to good to be true?

What struck me this week is, in light of this great offense, God still loves me.  There is nothing I can do, nothing I can say (short of blaspheming the Holy Spirit) that will cause Him to love me any less.  Nothing I can do, nothing I can say will cause Him to love me any less.  Nothing you can do, nothing you can say will cause Him to love you any less.  Nothing anyone can do to us, nothing anyone can say to us will cause Him to love us any less.

In a world where father will forsake his child, a mother has no compassion on the child she bore, a trusted friend withdraws, a spouse betrays... our God will not.  Our God will not forsake us.  Our God has compassion.  Our God will be with us even to the end of the age.  It is easier for the king sitting at the head of the table to believe this, but oh, the reverence of the dog under the table, accustomed to being kicked when underfoot!