I’m back to that
old Rusty Goodman song, “Who am I that a King should die for me?”
I got that part. It’s
because I’m His child, and He’s my Father. Dying for me was an act of love, and
love is who this King is (among other things). Love is what He does.
I got the part about Him. The part I have
trouble with is the part that has to do with me. Why did He choose me out of all this great orphanage called
Earth? I’m not the prettiest, or the smartest, or the most capable, or the most
patient. I’m not the cuddliest, or the funniest, or the most charismatic. I’m
not the most talented or the hardest worker. Sometimes I’m not the cleanest. (I’m
an outdoor, girl, remember.)
Why me?
Avi, I get it, but I don’t get it. Maybe
this is one of those things I don’t have to understand. That’s OK—but I still
want to understand because I want to know You more. In Your holy name, Amen.
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