One of my mom’s favorite stories about me when I
was really young involved she and my father coming home from a trip. As the story goes (I have no memory of this )
I crawled into my mother’s lap and asked her
“Do you still love little boys?”
of course she said
yes
such
is God's
mother love
for us
when we ask
do you love me?
still
really?
in spite of all the broken things
left behind
in spite of all the rebellion
in spite of
all
God
says
yes
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