Ruth Graham, Billy Graham's own daughter, went through more marriages and more heartbreak than most of us ever will. She said this: "We can come to him, battered, bruised, broken, sinful, and he just welcomes us."
That was the woman at the well. That was me on the bathroom floor. That was me in the car after church, wondering if I still counted.
And every single time, God was already there. I had just never understood the pages well enough to find him.
Five marriages. Four divorces. A past I'm not proud of. And a God who stood in the driveway the whole time, waiting. Not to read me my list. To welcome me home.
The strange part is what happened to my mornings after that. For the first time in my life, I couldn't wait to open my Bible. The little study became the first thing I reached for, before my coffee, before my phone. Not because I was trying to be good. Because I finally understood what I was reading, and once you understand it, you can't stop.
I didn't just finish the Bible that year. I understood it. There is a world of difference between those two things.
And here is the thought I can't shake. If someone had handed me this twenty years earlier, I believe my whole life would have looked different. I might have known my worth before I ever let that first man take it. I might have known what God actually thought of me before I spent decades trying to prove I was worth keeping. So much of the pain I walked through, I walked through for one reason. I never understood the book that could have told me who I was the whole time.
The life I have now, the marriage, the peace, these quiet mornings at this table, none of it came because I earned it. It came because I finally understood the One who had been calling me home all along.