Thursday, 29 April 2010


My friend Amy, without any reason, hates her name - so I googled it for her last night to see what it means. "Amy" comes from the old French "aimee" - "loved".

Loved. Warm; precious; held.

I wonder how differently we'd treat ourselves, and each other, if we knew ourselves loved. What kind of respect would we offer to the people we rub shoulders with every day, if we could see what makes them so precious to God that he would hurt for them? What if we could see the kind of beauty God sees when he looks at us? Do you ever wonder? Do you know yourself loved?

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