Excerpts from a Conversation

I was talking with God this evening, just trying to figure some things out. In the course of the conversation, the following dialogue was had:

Me: “Why do You even love me, God? You know everything I do; all my failings; how I stumble time after time after time and never seem to learn. Why do You still love me?”

God: “I made you.”

Me: “You made a mess!”

God: “I made someone who needs My Son.”

That pretty much ended the conversation. Question answered. I love it: no long explanation or justification, just seven simple words. And almost a quarter of the day later, I’m still thinking about it - what exactly my identity means, what are the results of this, and what it means going forward.