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Why Bother to be Loved Perfectly?

My husband’s biological clock was five years ahead of mine. Consequently, after two years of marriage, he broached the subject of having kids. But, his suggestion made me wobble. “What kind of mother will I be?” I asked my husband. “You’ll be a natural,” was his response.

Surprise!

September 17, 1983 our first son was born. My fierce and immediate love for him took me by surprise. He was bald, toothless and helpless. But, holding him in my arms, rubbing my nose on his soft baby skin face and examining his tiny fingers intensified something I’d never felt before; the heart and love of a mom. 

He had nothing to offer me except himself. He could do nothing for me, except to be himself. Bearing him had been painful. I lost sleep, gained weight and grew stretch marks. Yet, I could not help but love him.

On September 10, 1987 our second son was born. My labor was shorter, but much more intense. This baby, unlike our quiet and pensive first born, came out squalling and his squalling lasted more than a few years. He had nothing to offer me except himself. He could do nothing for me, except to be himself. Bearing him had been painful. I lost sleep, gained weight and grew stretch marks. Yet, I could not help but love him.

Finally, on April 4, 1991 we had our fourth son. His birth came after the sad stillbirth of our third son. Yet, this son, our fourth born, was a happy closure to my child bearing years. He had nothing to offer me except himself. He could do nothing for me, except to be himself. Bearing him had been painful. I lost sleep, gained weight and grew stretch marks. Yet, I could not help but love him.

Being a mom has taught me the most about God’s love. Like newborn babies, none of us have anything to give to God except ourselves. We can do nothing for God except be ourselves. Yet, he loves us. 

What does God expect from us? Nothing except to come to him, bringing ourselves and being ourselves. 

Why bother to be loved perfectly? Though our love for others falls short of perfection, God’s love for us does not.

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