I don’t know if I mentioned it here before, but I figured out a long time ago that God loves irony. Loves it. Maybe He figured out a long time ago that He could be ironic with things, then sit back and go, “Isn’t that funny?” and, behold, humor was born.
After my little temper tantrum of epic proportions… How easy it is to despair of His mercy after something like that. It’s intimidating to even consider asking for forgiveness, because you know you don’t deserve it and by even thinking about it, He would know you’re thinking of asking, and what would He think of that?
How could my Father possibly still love me after that?
Even before I could face Him about it, He showed me how much he loves me.
I helped out in the nursery at daycare on Tuesday and ended up helping change a six week old’s clothes. I held him in my arms while the other girl in there found his diaper bag, and it just took seconds to realize how tiny he was. How fragile. How precious. He was fussy and upset, but as soon as he had his pacifier, all was well with the world, and he went back to sleep, in the arms of a strange lady he didn’t know.
This is how I see you, whispered my Father, as innocent and lovable as this little one you hold. Lovable simply because he is. Precious in my sight, every one, no matter what you have done.
Last night, after staying late and reading Bible stories with one of my piano kids, I came home to a kitten. A tiny white and yellow kitten, maybe four weeks old (who just perched on my chest), that the neighbor girl brought over because she’s allergic.
It took me half a second to fall in love.
God fell in love with us before the world even existed.
Between babies and kittens, He’s reminded me that there’s no way He could ever stop loving us. No matter what we could do against him, his love conquers it. Forgiveness is real because of his amazing, unfailing, unconditional love.
My Father sure loves to put big things in small packages.