That we have been given
lifetimes and the opportunity to love…that we’ve been invited into that holy
enterprise of caring more about another than about ourselves…that we can choose
to give of our time and energy and affection when what we may receive back,
like it has often been the case for Him, is apathy or distracted attention or
even anger…that we are offered the chance to receive love from another person
who can’t read our mind or know exactly what makes us tick, but who sees us and
cares for us and extends themselves to us…it’s all a miracle.
Love is the holy language of a
God who could pull it off.
Perfectly. That He allows us
these days and interactions of many kinds to bring that language to earth is
unfathomably sweet and unexpected.
It’s like letting an out-of-control toddler carry around a crystal
heirloom that’s been in the family for generations. We have the potential to do far more harm than good, and we
often do. Yet He apparently
thought it was worth letting us in on the divine gift that was the core stuff
of the Father, Son, and Spirit.
Why would the God of heaven
entrust such a thing to us?
Heaven’s most precious ingredient has been poured onto earth and we are
both the bowls it comes into and the pitchers that it gets poured from. We are shaped for such exchanges with
the hands, feet, and mouths to carry it around and give it out, and then He
arranges our lives to be chock full of moments that we can. Maybe we could become a little more
aware of watching for those opportunities and seeing them as the utterly
amazing gifts that they are.
Could anything delight Him more?
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