How is it

How is it that I need not Labor for His love? How is it that I am free?

How is it that he has paid it all?

How is it that he has loved me with so great a love that he pardons all of my failures. Each day I fail him, and yet, each day he washes me clean and gives me another chance- a chance in which I will fail him again. And yet, he gives me another chance. Always.

How is it that this God of light and perfection, could love me; a creature of darkness and brokeness?

How is it that he has loved me when I paid him no account? 

When I despised him. 

When I spit in his face. 

When I turned my back. 

When I didnt care. 

When I hurt him.

He held out his hand, and said “come”. He pulled me into his embrace as I cried, and He said 

“You are free. 

You are clean. 

You are mine. 

I have chosen you. 

I have called you by name. 

I have freed you.”

How is it that a God like this could love the likes of me? 

I am so unworthy. 

I so broken.

He is so good.

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