Parents have no monopoly on unconditional love. Some parents seem incapable of it. Childless people can have it in spades. For me, however, becoming a mum was the most powerful life lesson in big love.
Although academically I know God loves me and each of us unstintingly and better than the best parent, this knowledge has a hard time percolating down to my heart and gut. A persistent feeling of crippling unworthiness has always infected my relationship with God.
When I had my own children, however, I understood more about the phenomenon we call unconditional love. So many days were sheer delight, others were nightmarish, most were a mixture of the two with a dash of boredom thrown in. No matter what had happened, though, once they lay sleeping at night, as I watched their quiet breathing and tucked their blankets around them, I was overwhelmed with adoration.
It struck me that, if I could love them no matter what kind of day we’d had, maybe God felt the same about me.
Recently I have had a refresher course in how the loving God feels about each one of us. We’ve had our first grand-child, and needless to say, the entire clan is smitten. We were lucky enough to spend most of her first month in close proximity; I had forgotten that there is something particularly appealing about babies before they can even smile. They are so helpless, so serious, gaze at you with such unblinking intensity. Their skin is flawless, their breath is sweet. The back of their necks smell swooningly delicious.
You can easily spend a great deal of time simply looking at them. I gazed at this tiny new person and was consumed with love, even though she had done nothing whatsoever to provoke or deserve or earn or stimulate this. She just lay there, and we loved her.
Maybe that’s a reflection of how God feels about us. Maybe God regards me, with my wrinkled skin and sour morning breath and cranky moods and is melted, blown away by delight. A favourite verse of mine, from the book of the prophet Isaiah reads, ‘You shall no more be termed Forsaken, and your land shall no more be termed Desolate; but you shall be called, My Delight is in Her.’
The birth of a baby is central to the Christian faith. As I hold my granddaughter, I am reminded once again of a God who loves us unconditionally, maybe even takes delight in us.
This was published in The Melbourne Age on 10 January.