Our God is a God of full-circle, accepting, limitless love. Back in the old days, when we ate at restaurants with our grandparents, I saw that kind of love.
It was my grandmother’s 83rd birthday. At the end of the meal, my oldest son eagerly asked me if we could go out to the car. I followed him quickly, and as he crawled into the back seat, I watched him take a dessert out of his pack. He wrapped it back up and sprinted into the restaurant.
Approaching the table, he laid the tinfoil mess in front of my grandmother. With a gleam in his eye, anxiously waited for her to open it. She unwrapped it like it was the most precious of gifts, and when she saw what was inside, she said, “Oh my favorite…chocolate!” picked it up and took a bite.
This is the kind of acceptance I have had my whole life from my grandmother. Taking a bite of the dessert said, “What you have to offer is worth something.” It crafted in me a belief that my best was always good enough, even if my best was a crumpled up chocolate brownie.
Her unwavering acceptance was coupled with her willingness to tell me the truth. She loved me enough to shoot it straight. When I was pregnant with our second son, I told her I was worried about balancing all of the things, and she said, “Well…you should have thought that through earlier.” Yet, when I was losing my memory after my daughter’s heart failure, I called to tell her I thought I needed to see a doctor, and her answer was, “Well, of course you do, honey.” Her steady acceptance was hard to quantify…and then…I saw it come full circle when she took a bite of the chocolate dessert.
She met my son right where he was at, not shocked, not looking down at the mess…always accepting every piece of love and effort without criticism.
It was a picture of a love that I never earned but always had. It makes me think of the eyes of our God, knowing full well that He has all of the resources He needs to make the world complete, yet He accepts my messy brownie of an effort. I want to forever be the type of child that is running out to the car to grab everything I have to offer. Knowing He will unwrap it with eyes that are accepting and kind, saying that what I have to offer is enough. That when I bring my worries to my God, He responds with eyes that say, “Of course my child, let’s figure this out together.”
We have never ventured too far to come back to our God’s great, great love. It is limitless and unending, full-circle and accepting, and will always welcome us home.