You were made to be loved

You. Guys. It's been three years since I wrote a thing! Where did the time go? I'm finding the older I become, the faster time moves. It's truly a phenomenon.

I'll be honest. I miss writing.

The way I can have so many various thoughts and feelings bounce around in my head, causing chaos, and then try to funnel them into a conscious, understandable piece of writing through my fingers and into the computer, connecting me to people all over the world.

I miss sharing that with all of you. I enjoy working all the chaos out as I type, and it's not unlike an adventure. So long as you can bear along with me, I enjoy taking you all on the adventure as well. At the current moment, I have only one memory, one spoken sentence running through my head. But I believe, dear friends, that it is the very best place to start.

"You were made to be loved."

I've been a nurse now for 5 years. Some parts of that have been easy, and many have been hard, but I've had the opportunity to meet hundreds of people I never would have otherwise. I've met people both young and old, confident and scared, some were crying, some confused and some very angry; they've all left a mark in one way or another. One gentleman in particular, older and with a thick foreign accent, held my hand between both of his wrinkled ones, and stated the above sentence: "You were made to be loved."

What does one reply to that?! "Sure?"  "I appreciate that?"  "My mom agrees?"

I remember at the time feeling completely awkward, and I think I said thank you, smiled and went on with my duties. Years later though, and that comment still buzzes around in my brain. I still ponder over it, toss it around like a tennis ball, trying to distinguish the meaning, the shape, the tenor of it. As an adult who most often feels quite underserving of love, who still after all these years is usually unable to accept grace, the sentence seems as foreign as it's deliverer.

But when I imagine myself as hours old in my mother's arms in the picture snapped after my delivery, I can see a little clearer. I can believe that the person God created and put together with care was indeed made to be loved. There was no massive flaw, no error made in the design. That individual was acceptable and perhaps extraordinary, and was worth loving.

But as I grew older, the world chipped away at that marvelous, lovable creation. It told me I was not extraordinary, that I was less-than. That I was made to love others and desperately crave love I would never receive. But despite anyone or anything that would make me believe the contrary, I was ALWAYS LOVED. By the one who made me.

So, indeed, I was made to be loved. And so were all of you. YOU were made to be loved.

Let that sentence roll around in your mind for awhile. Stew on it. Do you accept it? Do you believe it? One of the greatest challenges is to recognize the innocent babies we once were and who we are today as the same people, and that both were made to be loved, both are deserving of love. Despite the poor decisions we've made, sins we've fostered, crimes we've committed, the selfishness, the bad attitudes: we were made to be loved.

Whether we believe and accept it or not, the good news is that it's still true. But the great news is that if we can allow it to sink in and become our truth, it will transform our lives. For me, I pray this is the year I let it become my truth. How about you?