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His Compassion Never Fails
By Victoria Osteen - Jun 15, 2010
I can remember when I was sixteen years old, my dad would allow me to drive the family car to the grocery store. "Go straight to the store, get the groceries, and then come straight back home," he would say. "Don't pick up any of your friends, just go, and come back."

One day as I was headed for the store, my dad cautioned me, "Victoria, the passenger-side window is off its track. Please don't open the passenger-side door, and especially, don't lower the window until I get it fixed."

"Okay, Dad," I said with a kiss and a smile as I headed out the door. And as any good, sixteen-year-old girl would do, I went straight to my best friend's house down the street and took her with me to the store. But being the responsible young lady that I was, I told her to be careful about the window. Well, we had driven one block when we saw a friend of ours walking down the street and we wanted to say hi (Of course, we weren't trying to impress him or anything or show off the fact that I was driving.)

"Just go ahead and roll down the window and say hello to him," I told my friend.

"But I thought your dad said not to lower the window," she responded. Caught up in the moment, I said, "Oh, it will be okay. Just do it slowly."

My friend rolled down the window, and we started waving and acting so grown up. He seemed so impressed that I was driving, and my friend and I acted as cool as could be. Everything was great until my friend tried to raise the window. Suddenly, it seemed like the world stopped as I watched the window crack and shatter into a million pieces! "Oh, no!" I cried. I would have given anything to turn back the clock at that moment. "You have to come home with me and help me explain to my dad what happened," I told my friend. Suddenly the groceries didn't seem so important anymore. We drove straight back home in complete silence. The walk up our driveway wasn't nearly long enough as I tried to figure out how to explain to my dad what just happened. I walked inside with my friend—the one who wasn't supposed to be with me. My dad was in the kitchen making some hamburgers when he turned and saw us. You can imagine the puzzled look on his face. "Dad, I'm so sorry… " I started to say, barely knowing how to explain what had happened.

Because I knew my father loved me, I had the confidence to tell him the whole story. The moment I admitted to my dad that I had disobeyed, he forgave me. Of course he was disappointed, but it didn't change his love for me. He didn't hold it over my head or measure my worth by that mistake. He chose to believe the best about me.

Maybe you weren't raised in a family like mine, and it's hard for you to believe that God is so forgiving. Maybe it's time for you to "redefine" what you know as love. God's love goes way beyond any human love you've ever experienced. He is always patient and kind, always just and forgiving. He weeps when you weep and laughs when you laugh. You are His delight, and He longs to have a loving relationship with you. You bring joy to His heart, and I know He is smiling on you right now as you read these words.

He does not treat us as our sins deserve or repay us according to our iniquities…As a father has compassion on his children, so the LORD has compassion on those who fear Him (Psalm 103:10,13, NIV).
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