Love and Pain

 

I know not everyone desires to be nor is cut out to be a parent.  But being a parent gives you this whole new view of life that's almost impossible otherwise and I can't help but mourn the loss of that incredible perspective for those who choose otherwise.

As the old cliche goes, after the birth of your first child you realize you never before understood love.  With that tiny little life that has overnight made your life more complicated and difficult and restricted you find love bursting in - protective and doting and hopeful. It changes you slowly and immediately, and you never again view the world the same.

As my children have gotten older I can suddenly start to empathize with my own parents, and to an extent I think I can better understand God.  Parenthood, I've come to believe, is an amazing object lesson.  In loving my own kids (imperfectly) I find myself hoping for them.  I hope for them to be healthy and strong and balanced and happy - and most of all I hope for them to be good. To be kind and compassionate and to use their lives to make a difference. I want the world to be better because my kids existed.  As I picture them growing up I can imagine no greater joy than to see my kids become these kinds of adults.

But what if they don't?  What if as they grow up my children act selfishly and unkindly, what if they make foolish choices and do things that will hurt them and people around them?  Would I stop loving them?  Not in the least.  I can't imagine anything that could make me not love my children.  But the difference is between a love that's full of joy and freedom and a love that's full of sorrow and pain.  I see parents whose children have grown up to do well light up with joy and pride as they talk about their kids.  And I've seen parents whose children are struggling - sometimes in an ER room as they question mental illness and behavioral problems or substance abuse - and you can feel the weight of their sorrow.  Do these parents love their children less?  I don't think so.  But theirs is a love that never stops hurting.

As always this makes me think about God and us.  No one loves like God loves.  My love for my kids is often filled with my own brokenness and confusion, but God's is pure and sees clearly.  I can understand from a parent's perspective God's fierce desire for us to listen to Him.  If my love for my kids desires the best for them, God's love can only desire that more - and He actually understands what's best.  I don't believe that our sin and brokenness ever lessens God's love for us, but the difference is between a love full of joy and a love full of sorrow.  Thinking about how deeply blessed I would be to see my kids become those loving, compassionate, creative and strong adults makes me want to likewise bless God with my life.  He who has loved me more than words can capture - how I hope my life fills his love for me with joy and not sorrow.