Twice His

My stars, Friend, pull up one of those tree stumps over there where we’ve been cutting that ol’ tree into firewood and have a sit down with me in the shade for a little spell so you can take a load off like a tired lil’ ol’ overworked beaver looking for a place to find some rest ‘cause this story is ‘bout to warm your heart faster than a cast iron skillet on a porch at midday in July. John 3:16 tells us, “For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever believes in Him shall not perish but have everlasting life.” That verse is the whole gospel neatly wrapped up like a prize pig at the county fair. It tells us that God didn’t just make us. He bought us back when we wandered off like a curious raccoon chasing after shiny, dangerous things it has no business touching.

Picture a little girl who loved to whittle. While other kids were chasing fireflies or trying to convince a stubborn goat to move off the porch steps, she sat right under a big pecan tree carving a tiny wooden bird. She shaped it carefully, smoothing every edge until it felt softer than a rabbit’s ear. Then, she painted its wings bright blue, added little eyes that sparkled, and even glued on a tiny twig for a perch. That little bird was her masterpiece.

One breezy afternoon she set it on the porch rail to admire it. That was her first mistake. A gust of wind swooped in like a nosy turkey looking for trouble and snatched that wooden bird right off the rail. It tumbled through the yard, bounced past the chicken coop, and disappeared into the woods faster than a squirrel stealing cornbread. She ran after it, calling and searching, but it was gone. Her heart dropped lower than a possum playing dead.

Weeks later, she was walking through town when she stopped cold in front of the general store. There, sitting in a little display basket between a jar of pickled eggs and a stack of pocket knives was her little wooden bird. She knew every curve, every brushstroke, every tiny detail. But the price tag made her blink. It cost more money than she had ever held at one time in her life.

So, she went home and got to work. She fed chickens, swept porches, hauled firewood, and even helped her neighbor, old Mr. Jenkins, gather pecans from his yard, which was no small task since he guarded those trees like a watchdog with a diploma. Day after day she saved every penny until one morning she finally had enough.

She marched into that store, set her hard earned coins on the counter, and claimed her bird. When she stepped outside, she held it close and whispered, “You are mine. You are twice mine. Once I made you. Once I bought you.”

Friend, that is the gospel in overalls. That is what Jesus did for you. He made you with care, then bought you back with love. You are twice His.

Friend, that is exactly what Jesus did for you. He created you with care, then bought you back with His own life. He paid the highest price because He saw the highest value. What a Savior!

If you have never accepted His gift of salvation, may today be the day you let Him bring you home. And if you already belong to Him, may this story remind you that you are cherished beyond measure. Let us never take that for granted.

Father, thank You for loving us enough to make us and redeem us. Help us remember the price You paid and the joy You take in calling us Yours. Draw our hearts close and keep us mindful of Your great love. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

Now friend, stroll right on into the rest of your day like a wise old owl perched on a steady branch. Remember that you are crafted with purpose, redeemed with love, and held with a grip stronger than a bear hugging a honey tree. And when the winds of life blow wild, you can be resting in the truth that the One who made you has already paid the high price and bought you back. You are His, and He is not about to let you drift away again.

With joy,

Gwen