You were once untouched. Unblemished. Pure, like the snow-white lamb with her super soft wool and silky bow. But you, like her, refused to remain on a shelf to watch life pass you by. To be an observer only. If you had, you'd have stayed pure. Unblemished. Untouched. Untouched by life. By laughter. By love.
Instead, you were dragged along the adventure of life. Dragged through play dates and arguments. Outside in the sunshine and rain. Cuddled with at night and rubbed thin. Wrapped around a finger too tightly and forever changed to get loose.
You were washed, like the little lamb. She with soap and water, you with blood of The Lamb. But never to be pure again. Unblemished. Untouched. Not here, anyhow.
You, like her, are no less loved, however. With your smudges and bruises. With your stitches and scars. With your tattered threads and cracks. You are just as loved. More so, even.
You were loved enough not to be placed on a shelf, for without being dragged through life, you'd have missed out on all the good. The laughter. The excitement. The joy. You were loved enough to be bought, cherished, brought along on the journey of life.
So, Dear Broken Heart, don't hold on to the injuries. The hurts. The "imperfections." Instead, cling to the Healer. The Father. The Lover. For He has been with you every step of the way, holding you tenderly, even more so than those little growing hands which loved, caressed, and brought along that little lamb.
He is the Lamb who loves with a perfect love. An everlasting love. Aimed right at you. Bruises, scars, cracks, and all.
How precious is your steadfast love, O God!
The children of mankind take refuge in the shadow of your wings.
Psalm 36:7
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