We’re on vacation in Clearwater, Florida, so I’ve been taking a break from writing. Today, we all (sister, her husband, her daughter, my husband, my kids, and me) went to a park near the little apartment where we are staying. It was a sweet, shaded place with age-appropriate jungle gyms for my very happy two-and-a-half year old Hurricane.
My daughter has been kind of sicky, so I was wearing her and resting with a portable fan while hubs played with Hurricane. I watched him interact with a little 3-year-old girl. He liked her. I was thinking about how he comes across and how he will come across to his peers as he grows up. So far, he’s just hilarious to me. I see his strengths – his thoughtfulness, his smarts, his tenderness, his silly silly silliness, his creativity, and his imagination. I see his weaknesses – inability to move on from his favorite tasks without a huge-screaming-end-of-the-world fit, difficulty expresses his feelings and what is hurting him, etc. I mean, he’s like the most normal 2-and-a-half year old on the earth. And I was just thinking, I know him. Like I know everything about him. I know him so, so well. I see exactly who he is, good and bad and ugly and beautiful. And I am overwhelmed with ridiculous, passionate, possessive, crazy love for him. I hope other people will see how fun and funny he is. I hope they’ll like him and love him and value him. I see his worth and his potential to be someone great, who can uniquely show the world God’s glory. Oh, what I hope for him!
I read this cute book with Hurricane before bed many nights, I Love You Through and Through. It says stuff like, “I love your inside, your outside, your happy side, your sad side, your silly side, your mad side…I love you through and through, yesterday, today, and tomorrow, too.” That book is so cute! That is how I feel about him – I know every part of him, and I love every part of him.
And then I realized, again, that God sees me the same way I see my son. He knows exactly who I am, and He has dreams for how I’ll bring Him glory. He knows my inside and my outside, my happy side and my sad side. He knows every bit of me, even the parts that he’s not excited about or proud of. He’s my Father! He’s my parent. Yet. Oh, the yet – it’s just so beautiful. Yet He loves me through and through, yesterday, today, and tomorrow, too.
I forget so often that someone loves me like that. I forget that someone sees my greatest awesomes and my most embarrassing lows, and still wants me the mostest and loves me the bestest. I’m so much like a toddler, too! I can’t quite be who I want to be or communicate what I want to say. But there’s nothing I can mess up that will make Him stop loving me. We make this so complicated to understand, but it’s so simple. Hurricane can throw the most epic, terrible, screamfest fit I’ve ever experienced, and it doesn’t change the way I love him one little bit. If I, in my sinful, decrepit, hopeless ways, can so easily love a writhing, wailing, squawking shell of a creature, surely the infinite God who made the universe can love me even better than that.
The love of God is greater far/Than tongue or pen can ever tell./It goes beyond the highest star/And reaches to the lowest hell.
The guilty pair, bowed down with care,/God gave His Son to win;/His erring child He reconciled/And pardoned from his sin.
When hoary time shall pass away,/And earthly thrones and kingdoms fall;/When men who here refuse to pray,/On rocks and hills and mountains call;
God’s love, so sure, shall still endure,/All measureless and strong;/Redeeming grace to Adam’s race—/The saints’ and angels’ song.
Could we with ink the ocean fill,/And were the skies of parchment made;/Were every stalk on earth a quill,/And every man a scribe by trade;
To write the love of God above/Would drain the ocean dry;/Nor could the scroll contain the whole,/Though stretched from sky to sky.
O love of God, how rich and pure!/How measureless and strong!/It shall forevermore endure—/The saints’ and angels’ song.