Dinner with family and friends followed by lively conversation gathered around a large roaring fire.
On my way in to work this morning, rather than listening to National Public Radio, I listened to the group, Selah.
The song, How Deep The Father’s Love, was playing and it continued to, as I hit repeat, over and over again.
By the time I reached the parking deck, I had wept out of me most of my sin.
I then felt compelled to send those gathered last night a text.
It read this way:
“Thank you for the dinner, milk and honey, underwear, friendship and spirited discussion. I appreciate each of you allowing me to work out my faith in front of you, with my scars, warts and imperfections. I love each of you deeply and with much heart felt passion.”
Every now and then I catch a glimpse in the mirror of God’s love as to who I once was and hope to one day again be.