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See what kind of love the Father has given to us, that we should be called children of God; and so we are.
1 John 3:1a (ESV)
“He loves me, he loves me not.”
I plucked the white daisy petals, deciding the outcome of my childhood crush.
Years later during a Sunday church service, daisies on my dress stirred those memories as I waited for my pastor-husband to call me to the platform. He had asked me to share the long journey of praying for my father to come to Christ. First we watched the Billy Graham video “Hope for America—a Message of the Cross.”
As I waited for my cue, the white-and-yellow daisies on a background of black seemed to blossom on my dress. The Lord stirred in my heart the image of plucking flower petals representing a young girl’s hope for love.
Hope found in the kind of love that goes to the cross.
As a young girl, I longed for love—especially from a father.
Starting in childhood we form beliefs about love. Beliefs about God often shape what we think about love. Maybe we believed in a Creator or denied God’s existence. Or we thought God was real but formed wrong thoughts about him.
God is a cosmic cop ready to bust us for every wrong. Or, God is a disciplinary father-figure punishing us for poor choices. Or, God is like our earthly father who abandoned us physically or emotionally—perhaps both.
My father’s absence for a few years in my childhood made me question if I was lovable and God existence. When my dad resurfaced, he was a self-proclaimed atheist. He said, “People think there is a God, but there isn’t.”
I met my heavenly Father at sixteen and followed Jesus. And I started praying that day for my dad to believe. Sixteen years later, when I was thirty-two, my dad accepted Christ. He finally realized there was a God who loved him.
The heavenly Father is not the earthly pictures we often paint.
There is a God. He is love. Love originated with Him and from Him.
God’s love is not conditional on anything we do or don’t do. And His love is not based on some whimsical hope of the last flower petal landing on “He loves me.”
It’s the hope of true love found in the cross.
Plucking petals from a flower, we can never say about God, “He loves me not.”
It is always, “He loves me. He loves me. He loves me.”
Heavenly Father, I believe in You. You are the one true God in heaven. The Creator of the world and of me. Thank You for Your love that sent Jesus to the cross for me. What love! What matchless and powerful love! In the name of Jesus. Amen.