I have heard throughout my life that God loves me as His child. “Jesus loves me, this I know, for the Bible tells me so!” I think of those words and can hear in my mind’s memory the sound of children’s voices learning that powerful truth. But, how soon I forget.

Times get tough, decisions weigh heavy, health fades, worries compound and my faith grows small. In those times the thought of God’s love for me almost cause me to be angry at God, as I practically challenge Him to prove it.

This morning I believe He did.

Sitting drinking my morning coffee, He reminded me of something that happened around thirty years ago. Out of nowhere God will bring us memories to (I believe) explain things years later. Sit quietly for ten to twenty minutes and you will be surprised at what God will say to you.

My wife’s (Lisa) family (both her mom and dad) were born and raised in rural Alabama. I call that area of the country the land of “nine fingered people” as it seems most men have lost a digit to a saw or an axe or a farm accident along the way. If you have all your fingers and toes in rural Alabama, you have a desk job. Anyway, we were visiting the area where Lisa’s mom was raised and walking through a wooded area when we heard our son, Justin (who was around ten at the time) screaming behind us. Apparently, he had lagged behind our group and was suddenly being attacked by yellow jackets. I turned around to see he was in distress and ran to him.

I need to pause here to say, I hate bugs – especially bugs whose sole purpose is to annoy, sting, fly into your ears and nose and generally make your picnics, hikes, and even morning coffee on the porch a living hell. At the top of that list are those devilish ones that sting. One of my first questions in heaven will be – “Why didn’t Noah leave off the mosquitos?” But, hearing my son’s screams caused me to forget all of that and I, without hesitation, ran to him. Pulling my shirt off, I began swatting at the hornets and picked him up and ran him to a clearing away from the danger.

He had been stung multiple times and we headed to the hospital where he received treatment and soon, thankfully, recovered.

Here’s the point..,

I recognized my son’s cry for help. As His children God recognizes our cry for help.

I ran to him. God runs to us.

I sacrificed myself to save him. God sacrificed Himself to save us.

I carried him to safety. God carries us to safety.

I could not take away the stings. God doesn’t take away the stings in our lives.

But, he was healed. God heals us.

We took Justin home. God is taking us home.

Peace!