You still love me.
When I snap at my kids, burn dinner, gripe at my husband, and forget to fill the dog’s water bowl, You still love me.
When I run into door frames in my fatigue, haven’t brushed my hair in days, and drop the same piece of mail four times in a row, You still love me.
When I get so angry at my lack of control in life that I hurl the empty juice bottle at the trash so hard it ricochets across the room, You still love me.
When I haven’t cleaned the bathrooms and the baby sucks on fists of dog hair from the rugs I haven’t vacuumed, You still love me.
When my husband runs out of clean t-shirts because I haven’t finished the laundry, when I spend too much money buying groceries, when the car is overdue for an oil change by 1,000 miles, You still love me.
When the toddler argues over whether he has to eat his breakfast, poops in his underwear, floods the bathroom from playing in the sink, and unravels an entire roll of toilet paper, You still love me.
When I let the kids watch too much television because I’m desperate for a quiet moment, You still love me.
When I greet my husband after work with a hot dinner on the table one night and shove cold leftovers and a screaming baby into his arms the next, You still love me.
When I look in the mirror and see lines forming, haven’t had a haircut in almost a year, and sabotage my diet by stress binging on chocolate chip cookies, You still love me.
When I grasp at movies or books to distract myself from life instead of finding rest in You, You still love me.
When I resent my relationships because I can’t control the behavior of other people, You still love me.
When my shifting moods make me seem bipolar, unlovable, and unstable, You still love me.
When I feel sorry for myself instead of being grateful for the myriad of blessings You’ve poured into my lap, still Your steadfast love never ceases, Your mercies never come to an end, and Your faithfulness is great.
You love because You love, You are love, You love to love. You love because You created me for love. You enjoy the journey. You know my perfectionism is a weakness in which You gain glory. You know every gift I have belongs to You, and You love the flawed, broken, utterly human person You created underneath it all. No striving. No pretense. Confession of what You already know. Acceptance of what I don’t deserve. No looking to tomorrow to start over. Every minute is a new beginning.
I am not the sum of my failures. My circumstances do not portray Your feelings toward me. Mistakes do not label who I am. I choose again to embrace the truth that You love imperfect people who keep trying to look like You. I am loved, and I am Yours.