Jesus isn’t watching from afar waiting for us to mess up so he can say “I told you so.” He freely showers his love and mercy onto us because he knows it’s exactly what we need.
Two years ago I became a mother. There were so many things I did to prepare for this new role. I read books, I painted the nursery, I washed and folded tiny onesies, and I did just about everything I could possibly to do make sure I was ready for this tiny human to invade my life. I am a planner so I had list upon list of things to do to make sure that nothing was left undone. As I approached that 40-week mark, I started feeling confident that I was finally ready for this new adventure. One week before my due date, I went into labor and gave birth to the most beautiful baby boy I had ever laid eyes on. But no matter how put-together his room was at home, and no matter how perfectly installed his car seat was in the car, there was no way I could be prepared for the amount of sacrificial love that began to fill my heart.
The moment my son was placed in my arms for the first time, everything changed. My life was no longer about me. Over the next few weeks, I began to see a change in myself. I no longer cared as much about what I was going to eat, I wanted to make sure my son was well-fed. I no longer cared about what I was going to wear, I wanted to make sure he had on the perfect clothes so that he wouldn’t be too hot or too cold. I no longer cared if I got enough sleep, it only mattered that he did. The love I felt for this boy was so immense that I would do absolutely anything to make sure that he was okay. Even now, when I see him trip and fall in the backyard or when I hear him cry over the baby monitor, the “mama bear” instinct in me tells me to run to him as fast as I can to alleviate whatever pain he is feeling, no matter how big or how small.
In his sermon on Sunday, Michael said that “Jesus is willing and able to make us whole.” To be completely honest, I’ve struggled to picture Jesus in this way. He always seemed so distant, so judgmental to me. I imagined myself having to beg him for forgiveness and try to prove myself worthy of his grace. Then I became a mother. When my son cries, do I debate in my mind if he is actually worthy of my time before I go to him? When he scrapes his knee, do I lecture him on how reckless he was before I bend down to make sure he’s ok? When he lets go of my hand in a busy parking lot, do I let him run away from me so that he will learn his lesson in a painful way? Absolutely not. I sprint to him. I scoop him into my arms. I do everything in my power to protect him and show him that I love him. It doesn’t matter how disobedient or stubborn he is, my love is stronger.
Jesus isn’t watching from afar waiting for us to mess up so he can say “I told you so.” He doesn’t make us beg him for his love and his healing. We don’t have to prove ourselves worthy of his grace in order for him to give it. He freely showers his love and mercy onto us because he knows it’s exactly what we need. He is willing and able to make us whole, are we ready to receive it?
