My husband and I took a trip to England once. We are not big travelers—it’s expensive for one thing, and why go to someplace other than the Blue Ridge Mountains, for another.
So we wanted to make the most of this trip to England. That meant walking through the English countryside, drenching ourselves in the beauty of the trees and forests and moors and ocean shores that inspired Narnia and Middle Earth. There were roads with long stretches of trees that met overhead, roads with hedges on either side that were higher than our car, mountains with heathery moors or deep woods, and green hills that sloped down to a coast of waves spraying on rocks.
It was all incredibly beautiful and I tried to think which I liked best—the forested mountains or the green pastures with sheep grazing in them (lots of lambs), or the coast’s hills and wild spraying waves. I was finding it harder than normal to choose mountains.
Impulsively, I asked God, “What’s your favorite?”
It was just pray chatting, and I didn’t expect an answer, but I got one. It was one of those unmistakable times when you hear the voice of God inside of you. He said, “People. People are my favorite.”
He likes us best. Despite everything. We’re His favorite.