"Katy, all that you say may be true. I dare say it is. But God loves you. He loves you."
He loves me, I repeated to myself. He loves me. "Oh, Dr. Cabot, if I could believe that! If I could believe that after all the promises I have broken, all the foolish, wrong things I have done and shall always be doing, God perhaps still loves me!"
"You may be sure of it," he said solemnly. "I, His minister, bring the gospel to you today. Go home and say over and over to yourself, 'I am a wayward, foolish child. But he loves me! I have disobeyed and grieved Him ten thousand times. But He loves me! I have lost faith in some of my dearest friends and am very desolate. But He loves me! I do not love Him; I am even angry with Him! But He loves me!'"
I came away; and all the way home I fought this battle with myself, saying, "He loves me!" I knelt down to pray, and all my wasted, childish, wicked life came and stared me in the face. I looked at it and said with tears of joy, "But He loves me!" Never in my life did I feel so rested, so quieted, so sorrowful, and yet so satisfied.
What a beautiful truth the Gospel is!!
I love this!
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