He Calls Me Daughter

I feel like I should tell my story; the story of what God has done in my life. When I think it about it, it's not really my story but our story, God's and mine. I was born and raised in a Christian home with two loving parents and a younger brother. I accepted Christ into my life at the age of 4. I believe I was saved then, but I know I didn't have a real relationship with God. I grew up believing that I had to be the best person possible. I was not allowed to fail, at least in my own mind. I'm not sure where this mentality came from but I still struggle with it. Growing up I thought that maybe if I did everything right; if I didn't lie, cheat, steal, drink, have sex, like boys, go to parties or do anything at all to anger God, then maybe, just maybe, I would deserve God's love. I viewed God's love as something to be earned.
My dad is a great dad. He has always spoken love to me, and I know that I can talk to him about anything and he won't reject me. When I was a child though he was always very busy pastoring our small church. He worked a lot and didn't really have time to do things with me and my brother. I remember every summer we would go to our aunt and uncle's church for Vacation Bible School. At the end of the week on Sunday morning they would have the awards, and we would get to sing the songs we had learned that week. My dad never came to one of those that I can remember. I recall asking him to come, and he telling me that he wanted to but couldn't, he had to preach at our church. I never realized how much this bothered me until I became older. Why didn't he want to come? Didn't he want to see me sing? Didn't he want to know if I had memorized all the Bible verse or not? Wasn't I special enough for him to find someone else to preach just this once? I felt that I was not treasured or cared for. I know today that that is not true. My dad and I have a great relationship that has only grown better as I have gotten older.
I've been reading Brady Boyd's new book Sons and Daughters, and the Lord brought those old feelings and hurts to mind. He showed me how much He loves me, and that even though my earthly dad wasn't there, He was. God was there sitting in that audience smiling at me. He was delighted that I was singing to Him. He loved the fact that I memorized so many verses. I mattered to Him. He was there! All through my life He has been there. Even through what I call my "dark ages," He was there! He delights in me; He calls me daughter. He doesn't call me that lightly either, He bought me with a price. I was paid for, not in a sleazy or selfish way, but in a way that He cared enough about me to bring me out of the misery I was living in. I didn't have to earn anything. He gives his love to me as gift, a wonderful, beautiful gift. I can't quite come to terms with that. It blows my mind. He calls me daughter. ME, the girl who has struggled so long to feel accepted, loved, and wanted. Me, the girl who has fought panic attacks, anxiety, fear, and lies for the past three years. ME, who has been cruel, unkind, and uncaring towards others who were hurting. He loves ME! And I don't have to earn it, I don't have to do everything perfectly right, He loves me just as I am. Just the way I am. That realization is mind boggling and I am so grateful for it.
 I have a feeling though that accepting this love is a life long journey. I'm not sure that I will ever get over it. I'm also not sure that I mind that. :)