I feel like the opposite of the Grinch in the fact that I think my heart was made two sizes too big.

It doesn’t always show it’s size- I’m completely capable of a mean remark and not considering someone else’s feelings- but more often than not, the worry, frustration, hurt and pain in my life come from my heart… that beats just two sizes too big.

It’s not a bad thing, but it feels that way sometimes because it’s something that I genuinely worry about.

Not the literal size of my heart—but I worry a lot when I think the people in my life might not know how much I love them.

I try to tell them as much as I possibly can, and my best friend Carly laughs that I often slip in a quick and high pitched ‘I love you!’ when I don’t know what else to say.

But there are times when I just worry that they might not know… and today is one of those days.

This last year has been a gigantic lesson in learning to accept the love that God has for me.

It’s been a year of reminding myself over and over again, what He says about me in the Bible. The fact that He literally believes that I’m perfectly and wonderfully made- He should know… He made me.

And most of all, the fact that He loves me so much that even at my messiest, He traded His Son for me… allowing His Son to die so that I could be close to Him.

And it’s taken a long time for those things to really set in.

It’s taken a long time for the criticisms that the world shoves my way to be drowned out by His ridiculous and endless love for me.

It’s taken a long time to trade my striving for perfection for a relaxed and seated knowledge that I was made perfectly, and that striving can’t do anything to change that.

But today I was sitting at a table in my backyard, and I caught myself worrying and feeling guilty that God might really not know how much I love Him.

I began to worry that I haven’t done a great job of showing Him recently.

Normally, my mornings are sacred. I intentionally set aside time that’s reserved for me, my Daddy and my coffee. Just the three of us. It’s a time that’s been absolutely instrumental in my growth, development and sanity over the past several years.

But recently, my quiet times have been hard.

I have been distracted by the omnipresence of wifi at my house, and spend the first moments of my morning checking my email and text messages from the night before- instead of diving into my set-aside time with Him.

And more than feeling like I’m a bad Christian or that I am going to lose my salvation (lies), I’m mostly worried that my Daddy just doesn’t know that I love Him… because I haven’t been intentionally showing Him the same way each morning.

And as I thought about this, my cell phone and all wifi-capable devices stored safely upstairs, I thought a little bit more about what this last season of my relationship with Jesus has looked like.

I realized that the time of peace and grace and quiet and gratitude that used to be reserved for the mornings, has exploded into my every moment.

I realized that in this last year, God has really taught me a true appreciation of the little things, and an ability to see Him in the tangible.

God has been showing me His face with absolutely all of my senses.

The sun that’s warming my face, the breeze that is blowing back my hair, the crunch of my cereal and the delicate boldness of my coffee- those are all reflections of my Creator.

Everything that makes me laugh, makes my heart squeeze, and catches my eye—are all reminders of His ridiculous and endless love for me.

And I realized, that although my morning quiet times have definitely left something to be desired, that in the everyday moments, we’ve been closer than ever.

He’s been teaching me a new way of interacting with Him, a new way of seeing Him.

It’s simply taking notice.

God wants the same things that we want- we got those desires from Him.

He wants to be seen and known and recognized. He wants to be paid attention to and loved.

And the best way we can do that is to simply open our eyes and notice Him.

He’s the creator of sunrises and sunsets and every color of the rainbow. He can be found in words and rhythms and notes. He’s scrawled across the pages of a book, or in the eyes of your puppy as it cocks its head at you lovingly.

My best friend Michelle used to feel God reminding her of His love when she’d hear Just Dance by Lady Gaga.

Although it takes a bit more searching- God can even be found in Gaga.

And so this morning, as I began to feel sad and guilty, thinking that God might not know how much I love him- I realized that He’s probably ridiculously aware.

I am working on being more intentional with my mornings again- realizing that there is no better way to start the day … but it’s something that should be done out of desire and peace and love- not out of guilt or shame or striving.

Delight and celebration and gratitude and sheer unadulterated joy have been the name of the game recently… and I really don’t think He’d have it any other way. I can’t think of a better way to show Him that I love Him.

Because I do. From the bottom of my heart that was made two sizes too big.