Still His Girl

September 7, 2024

“You’re still My girl.” Those are the words my Father spoke to me as I was coming awake early this morning. I fell back asleep and into a dream about the place where I lived and the people I lived with during the hardest five years of the 13-year methamphetamine addiction of my teens and early twenties.

It was a place called “Sage” where we were anything but wise, but where the rare white sage plant grew all over the rolling hills. It was a place where a fire consumed our house and nearly took our lives as we slept, but where we rebuilt, only to lose the second house to another fire. It was a place where I lived without running water or indoor plumbing, but where I would weave the tall, sticky stalks of white sage flower buds into wreaths to wear in my hair. It was a place where finally I lost what innocence I had left, and where I learned that there is no such thing as “peace and love” in drug-addicted hippie culture.

Through all of that, and much more and beyond, my Father drew me to His Son, who waited for and watched over me, and who intervened to save my life again and again. He drew me to His Son so that when I accepted that glorious Gift of the Lamb in my life – now the Love of my life – I would become His daughter, washed clean and born again.

And last night, He spoke those words to me so tenderly, in the dark, and gave me that dream to remind me, and to tell me: His eye is on the sparrow; how much more so has it always been on me? Even in the speed-soaked, sleepless years in Sage, His eye was on me. There would be no end to the number of times He would extend His saving grace, until He finally awoke me from my slumber, my stupor, with a kiss – like a sleeper whose beauty only He could see.

And what a sweet kiss came from the word of His mouth this morning. I am still His girl after all these years, even after the sifting, the shaking, and the failure of this past summer. I have finally run back to Him, and I am safe. He welcomed my return with a robe to warm my bones and a ring to remind me that I am His. There is nowhere I can go to flee from His presence. He will never, never, never leave me nor forsake me.

And once again, He overshadows me. He overshadows me like the cool, billowing mists of the clouds that intervene and bring relief from the scorching rays of a slave-driving sun in a dry and desert land. He has delivered me, again, because He delights in me.

I am His. I’m still His girl.

And I don’t know what heaviness, heartache, shame, or regret you woke up with this morning. But what love the Father has lavished on us that we should be called His children. If you are not part of His family, He is waiting for you. All you must do is accept His Son and acknowledge that you need Him and believe in Him. He will adopt you into His family.

Message me. I would love to share with you about it. There is no greater gift.