Friday, December 9, 2011


One night, eight years ago this week, I was the teen-age boy in the story.

Oh, I didn't get drunk and wreck my father's car.

I wrecked my life... and the lives of the people I loved.

I had run away from God; turned my back on Him.

I had decided that my life was my own, and that I could live it anyway I wanted.

My theme song was "It's My Life" by Bon Jovi.

On my way to Gainesville, that night the doctors said our son probably wouldn't make it through the night, I never heard my Father say, "I told you so."

I never heard Him say, "I bet you wish you had listened to me now."

I never heard Him say, "You made your bed, now lie in it."

I only heard Him say, "I'm here. I've always been here."

His Mercy didn't give me what I deserved.

His Grace gave me Himself.

He didn't say, "Let's go get you a new car."

My Father said, "Cheri, let's go get you a new life."

"The thief does not come except to steal,
and to kill, and to destroy. 
I have come that they may have life,
and that they may have it more abundantly."
John 10:10

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