Labor Of Love
It was a Thursday morning nineteen years ago this week. It was 60 some degrees and breezy as we made our way to the hospital. I had labored through the night, but it was still thirteen days before my due date. Never having done this before, I wasn’t exactly sure what to expect. We had completed the Lamaze class, even though we never did master the art of the “hee-hoo-hee-hoo” breathing without a continual case of the giggles. But apparently, using breathing techniques or not, the baby was indeed coming. By mid-afternoon it was snowing and we had become parents to a dark-haired, rosy-cheeked, beautiful baby girl. I was simply in awe of such an incredible gift. I looked at her. I studied her. I held her and stared at her and was filled with a love different than I’d ever known. There is something wonderfully unique about the love between a parent and a child.
Over the years, as our daughter has grown, I’ve found myself at various times just watching her, taking in all that she is. And I am still in awe of the fact that God chose to give me this gift in allowing me to be her mom, entrusting her to me for this time. My heart is so full of love that it could explode. I don’t live for her, but I would die for her. I want so much for her; I want her to be everything God has created her to be and to do all that He has prepared in advance for her to do. I want her to live loving Him first and most, experiencing the very best that He has for her in every area of her life. It’s hard for me to wrap my mind around the fact that as much as I love my daughter, God’s love for her is infinitely greater.
As is His love for me. This week, as I have been reflecting upon and celebrating my daughter, I’ve been reminded of something. The way I look at her, the way I see her and celebrate her is the same way God looks at me, and sees me and celebrates me, but with an intensity beyond what I can comprehend. His love for me led Him to the cross. His love for me brought victory over the grave. So that I can be called His child, His daughter. I am His and He is mine. He hushes my cries and dries my tears. He holds me in the strength of His everlasting arms. He looks at me and sees into my soul. He rejoices with me. He even sings over me. How about that? A God who sings! His unmatched labor of love has made me eternally His own. And His crazy, unexplainable love compels me to live for Him. As much as I want to experience the abundant life Christ has for me, He desires that for me even more so. And He continues to transform me more and more into the image of Christ.
He is the very definition of Love, and it’s experiencing His love for us that enables us to love others. It’s remembering that our Abba Father delights in His children and longs to lavish us with His goodness that fills us with joy. There is something wonderfully spectacular about the labor of love the Father endured for His precious sons and daughters. Live out of the overflow of that unmatched love.
