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Somebody Loves Me
Is there anything better than getting your tour card to play the PGA?

John was the resident pro at a golf course seven years before he got up the nerve to try out for the PGA tour. With his new bride's encouragement, and the last of their savings, he flew to Florida, hoping to qualify at the PGA Quality School.

After six rounds and 106 holes of playing his heart out, John was informed that he had finished among the top 35 golfers—good enough for a tour card that would allow him to play with the big boys.

Before the tournament he had promised himself that, good or bad, he would wait until he got home to tell his wife the news. He struggled with his resolve while waiting in the airport; and could barely resist the urge to dial her number.

Finally he boarded the plane. After what seemed an eternity, the flight landed, and an hour later John pulled into the driveway, eager to tell her the news.

The house was quiet. In the kitchen he found a beautiful table set with their finest china. Lasagna, garlic toast and a garden salad beckoned. Candles were lit. Could someone have tipped her off? Or did she just have that much faith in him?

His wife, Sara, strolled in from the living room, smiling, then listened excitedly to the good news. Wrapping her arms around him, she kissed him. Over dinner she listened to John's play-by-play description of those six rounds. Afterward, Sara pulled an envelope from the left pocket of her sweater. John ripped it open and pulled out a beautifully hand-lettered card. It read:

Congratulations, Babe!
I knew you could do it!
I love you and I'm so proud of you.
Yours forever, Sara.

Needless to say, there was more kissing. But later, as the two were doing dishes together, a second envelope fell from Sara's other pocket. She tried to pick it up, but John beat her to it. Opening it, he read these words:

I'm sorry, Honey.
Please know that you'll always be a pro to me.
I love you, and I'm proud of you.
No matter what.
Yours forever, Sara.

The story I made up; the message I did not. Receiving a tour card is nice, I'm sure. But can anything equal Sara's gift of unconditional love? All of us long to be loved like that.

Sprinkled throughout the diaries of atheist Madelyn Murray O'Hair was this simple phrase: "Somebody, somewhere, love me."

If you have ever doubted the depths of God's love for you, listen to His words in Isaiah: "Though the mountains be shaken and the hills be removed, yet my unfailing love for you will not be shaken … says the Lord, who has compassion on you" (54:10 NIV).

There is a truth so simple that I almost hesitate to write about it. Yet I have met great preachers and missionaries and long-time saints for whom its absence has been devastating and its presence life-changing. It is the simple fact that there is nothing you can do to impress God. He already loves you. Before you were born, He died for you. He redeemed you. He called you by name. Second Timothy 1:9 says it so well: "It is God who saved us and chose us to live a holy life. He did this not because we deserved it, but because that was His plan long before the world began—to show His love and kindness to us through Christ Jesus."

No matter what has happened to you today, the hand-written card in God's pocket remains the same: "I am yours forever." No matter where you have strayed lately, His message has not changed: "Come home. I love you."

God can turn from His anger, but never from His love.

Is there any better news in all the world?

Phil Callaway is the editor of Servant magazine, author of a dozen books and a popular speaker. His web site is: .

Originally published in City Light News, June 2006.




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