Last Tuesday was the birthday of an important man—the
one whose hands were the first to hold me. He is one of the best men I know. In
the midst of many faces, there is one face that I recognize as my father and he
is kind.
We have no choice when it comes to what family we
are born into. I didn´t choose a good father. He was simply there. Much like
humanity did not choose to be created by a being who cared.
Our Creator—our God—might have been impersonal. He
could have been cruel. He could have been taciturn, or unreasonable, or
selfish.
Instead, the One being who has no beginning and no
end, the One who will have the last word, the One who chose to create us (and
in whom we are chosen), happens to be good.
Of all the “gods” conjured up by human minds,
the true God—MY God—dares to define Himself with one word—Love.
I didn´t choose a God of Love. He chose me…and He
changes not.
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