There was a child, the apple of her daddy's eye. He loved her; she loved him—there was harmony. Every evening, before she went to bed, they would say goodnight to one another. He would tell her he loved her; she would tell him she loved him, too. And she did.
Time passed, and she grew, as children do. She became a teenager; and as teenagers often do, she became rebellious. There were times that she was not obedient to her father—she was willful and went her own way—and he would do his best to correct her, although not always with effect. Yet in the evening, before she went to bed, they would say goodnight to one another; he would tell her (sometimes with tears!) that he loved her, and she would tell him that she loved him, too.
More time passed, and she grew, as teenagers do. She became a lovely young woman; and as some are wont to do, she was at times rebellious—though not as she had been. She was rarely openly so—yet, she thought her father old–fashioned; a little too religious. And she expressed that on occasion—but only when she let her guard down, and when she felt he couldn't hear her. Yet in the evening, before she went to bed, they would say goodnight to one another. He would tell her (yet, in a voice touched with sadness) that he loved her, and she would tell him she loved him, too. And she really thought she did.
1 John 5:3, "For this is the love of God, that we keep His commandments; and His commandments are not burdensome," (cf Mt 15:18,19).
We can tell God we love Him in prayer before we go to bed at night, and really think we mean it; but the truth may be very different based on what we say, what we do, …and what we think. And God knows.
