I'm still grappling with this idea.
It makes sense when I look at my reaction when I think of an abandoned baby. The injustice I feel toward the situation would insist that the baby deserves a chance at life. What makes this baby deserving though? What has she done to earn it? Perhaps then, this baby isn't deserving of life as much as she is worthy of one. For she is inherently a reflection of the worthiness of her Creator.
Somehow though, I find it so difficult to see that same worthiness in me. Why? I don't know yet.
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