Raggedy Me

This morning in church, I had a vision. I saw myself as a rag doll lying in a puddle, much like this picture. I was dirty, damaged, and smelly. I was trash.

If you've ever known a little girl who was attached to a doll, you would know that if anything happened to that doll, the little girl would be devastated. She would cry and look for it everywhere until she found it. Even if she never found it, nothing would or could ever replace it.

And if she does find it, she rejoices. To her, it doesn't matter if the doll is dirty, wet, damaged, or smelly. She picks it up and draws it near, holding it tight and probably does a dance or jumps up and down. She has found her precious treasure.

In my vision a hand reached down and picked me up.

This person... He put me to His chest and held me tight. He forgot that I was dirty, wet, stained, and smelly. He ignored the fact that, to anyone else, I was trash. To Him, I was a precious treasure.

I had been lost, but was found. I was loved and cherished, despite my state.

I wish I could act this out for you, or catch it on video, because it would be beautiful. But I can only leave you and myself with these limited and incapable words that try to describe what I saw.

I can't even begin to describe what I felt. Tears fell, but if my heart weren't so hard, I think I would have sobbed, because this is clearly a picture of His love. I'm still taking it in. I want to get a rag doll to remind me of this vision.

He loves raggedy me.

I am not quite sure how to take that in yet.

He loves raggedy me.

Loves....me. Me.

He...loves....me.

I don't know how or why.

But He does.

I don't know how to accept it.

But He loves me still.

Even when I reject Him.