Why do I love God
Why do I love God? Why do we adore?
For me, it's simple: He created me, and more.
In His image, I'm crafted, a work of art divine,
A reflection of His love, a heart that beats in rhyme.
He loved me first, before I knew His name,
Before I understood the depth of His holy flame.
He pursued me, gently, like a summer breeze,
And whispered truths that only my heart could seize.
In darkness, I once wandered, lost and alone,
A shattered vessel, broken, like a mirror overthrown.
But He found me, like a treasure hidden in the night,
And lifted me up, like a phoenix rising into new light.
He asked me, 'Where are you?' like a shepherd seeking his sheep,
And I confessed, 'I'm hiding, ashamed, my heart does weep.'
But He didn't judge me; instead, He showed me His gentle face,
And said, 'Turn from your past, and I'll give you a brand-new place.'
I chose to follow Him, like a traveler finding a guiding star,
And He filled me with potential, like a vessel overflowing from afar.
Now, I'm a voice of hope, a messenger of love and light,
A reflection of His beauty, shining like a beacon in the night.
So, I ask you, dear friend, what is God to you?
Is He a distant concept, or a loving presence that shines through?
Why do you love God? What draws you to His heart?
Is it the promise of eternal life, or the peace that never departs?
If I were to ask you, why do you choose to serve Him?
What would be your answer? What is your expectation?
What is your love for God? What is your relationship with Him?
Are you willing to surrender your life, to let His love shine within?
If you were to describe yourself in the place of God,
What kind of human would you be? Would you be just, or would you be odd?
Would you show mercy, or would you show might?
Would you love unconditionally, or would you demand what's right?
These questions, dear friend, are not meant to condemn,
But to inspire reflection, and to help us comprehend
The depth of God's love, and the height of His grace,
And to encourage us to seek Him, with a humble heart and a willing pace.
Copyright ©
Abraham Solomon
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