The prodigal welcome.
This feels too good to be true for me.
I learned to expect painful treatment, as a kid,
if I ever FINALLY penetrated through
my parents’ constant miasma
of negative self talk
about stuff that I needed.
Like a hug or a sweater or a quiet space or kind words.
Not that Mom and Dad meant to hurt me: they didn’t. I’m sure of it.
But you can’t give something that you haven’t GOT, right?
I was thinking with God about this issue of
what treatment I think I deserve this morning.
I want to reboot my ❤️ with Jesus today about this.
I DO deserve special treatment.
Jesus models it when it says He rose early as was his habit and went to pray alone with His Father,
or when He is obviously saying scripture over to Himself during His death by torture, because look what comes
out of His mouth.
The Father says so. No matter how I _______ in the past.
I deserve the following:
Cozy 🔥 places
Hot drinks that taste good
My dog at my feet
My cat in my lap
rain drops on roofs,