Jesus Loves Me as I Am

He’s my Savior, not my accuser.

Jesus Loves Me as I Am

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I grew up in a Christian family, with a Christian father, mother, brother, and sister. How boring is that? And I’m talking really godly people who acted out the love of God—not just a family who went to church on Sundays. They weren’t perfect, but through them I learned about God and his love.

But growing up in a Christian home didn’t make me a Christian any more than walking into a garage makes me a car (from a sermon I heard recently). When I was a little kid, I remember my pastor talking about our sinful nature and how our failures grieve the Lord. At the tender age of five, I prayed, asked for forgiveness, and gave my heart to Jesus. I felt clean and free … for a while.

Through the years, I tried but failed to measure up to what I thought God wanted from me. I tried my best to be perfect, but I still could be selfish, impatient, or unkind. Disappointed, I would confess my flops over and over again to the Lord. I knew he forgave me, but something was missing. I needed something deeper.

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