What Being A Mom Taught Me About God’s Love

    
      I stand in the kitchen doing dishes. Christopher is in bed sound asleep, and I miss him. I want to see his smile and hear his laugh. I grin to myself as I put the rinsed dishes into the drain. “I’m a mom.”

      “Oh dada da mmmmmm” I hear from the other room. I leave my sudsy dishes to give attention to something or rather someone much more interesting. I’m greeted with a smile. “Hey, sweetheart.” I say leaning down to scoop him up. His feet and arms jiggle with his excitement.

       After a very long nap I know my little one is hungry. We head to the family room where my comfy rocking chair sits.

       “Did you have a good nap?” a goofy grin is my affirmative answer. We pass through the kitchen when I see it. My love-o-meter hanging on the fridge. Oh no. Christopher’s score is 0.4. Very low indeed. It would be higher but, as I then recalled, he had refused my demand of making me an artichoke spinach souffle. I plop him down on the family room floor. The only reason he wasn’t at a zero was because of a few lame smiles.

         I turn away from him, his smile vanishes and a wail breaks out.

“MAAHMMA!”  he cries. But what do I care? He has done nothing for my love. I’m too intent on getting away from that THING that I miss his arms stretched out to me.

        I go back to my dishes. Over the running water I hear the wails continuing. Well, I can’t let him go hungry. I spy a failed loaf of bread. I break of  chunk and throw it at him. Let him figure it out. If he chokes I’ll make sure I go to his rescue. But nursing? Snuggling? Affection? None of that.
      The latter part of that scenario (which never happened btw) is completely absurd. And yet, it is the view I often have of God. I feel like I have to earn love. Love is something you can NEVER earn. Love is wanting the best for someone at all times. It’s impossible to do that without love being completely independent of someones actions, good or bad.
       We were at Living Waters House of Prayer. Like usual, I was desiring distractions so as to not have to pray.  Praying meant facing myself. I hate ‘spiritual mirrors’. Especially when I’m convinced that I have to see a ‘supermodel’ to be loved. What I failed to realize is God does love me. Yes, I knew it but I didn’t understand.  I don’t understand, I’m human, but I do understand a little better.

       I was holding Christopher, who was conveniently providing a lot of distraction. I looked at him and it hit me! God is our heavenly father. FATHER! I know I’m Christopher’s mother not father but I know parental love.

       When Christopher smiles my heart flutters. I’m tickled with him. I desire to spend time with him. To hold him. To protect him. I want to correct and chastise him when he’s wrong, because I want him to learn. It hurts when I have to smack his hand as a way of correction, but I know it’s best for him. I want him to learn. Each day I love to see new developments. When he says “MAHHMAA!” my heart melts. I sing songs about my baby.

        I love my baby! What does he do for this love? Nothing. Like I said, you can’t earn love. Love is just amazing like that.

        I know my relationship with Christopher is so off-scale with God’s love for us, but it helps me to understand a little better.