Oh, how He loves us

I'm not the most maternal person in the world. Before I was actually a mom, my best friend Ashley and I would laugh about how my kids would totally be the ones running around in diapers with bedhead hair and sticky popsicle stains on their faces.

Now that I have my own little one, I still don't think "maternal" is the best word to describe me. (Just ask B - I am lacking a sensitivity chip when he is sick...I have been known to throw the "hypochondriac" label on him...I could use a few lessons in compassion and "mother hen-ing.")

But nobody prepared me for the deep, heart-wrenching love I would have for my tiny human. I loved her the instant the nurses placed her on my chest, but every single day since then, my heart just keeps bursting at the seams. The past year in particular has been a tough one for us. But somewhere along the line, I realized that she was doing just fine. She had her good days and bad days, but there was an inner strength...a resilience...in her that shone through. On those bad days, my heart ached. I just wanted her to know that I would take care of her. And on the good days, my heart was so proud.

I know that "co-sleeping" is annoyingly controversial (because for some reason we as parents like to decide what is "acceptable" and "healthy" for other families, haha) but there are nights when I let Faith sleep with me in my bed. It started out selfishly - sleeping alone in a big bed after 5 years of marriage is painful and a tangible reminder of loneliness. But now it is something different. I don't sleep well in general, but when I add a sprawly, kicky, flip floppy, almost 4 year old to the equation...and well, yeah. But it's fascinating how it doesn't annoy me. Even when she rolls over and her tiny little arm is flung across my face at warp speed and I yelp in pain...I look at that angelic face (see photo) and can't help but smile. When I wake up in the morning and am immediately overwhelmed by the 19 million things I have to do that day or by the 39430 bills I have to pay, I can put all of those things on hold when that tiny human puts her hand on my cheek and whispers "good morning, mama. I think the sunshine came up."

Let's be clear. There are plenty of times when she pushes me to breaking point and when I am disappointed in her choices. I lose my cool often. But NOTHING she could ever do would make me love her any more or any less. Being a mom has radically transformed my understanding of unconditional love.

In counseling, week after week, we talk about my insecurities and how I am constantly trying to "fix myself" to be a better mom, friend, daughter, employee, and person in general. I am obsessed with it. My life circumstances have contributed to this, but I can't seem to figure out how to just "be." I read blogs, I make lists, I overanalyze myself. Every single week, we discuss God's grace. I am trying to learn how to wrap my head around the concept that I am good enough "as is." Most of this battle I prefer to keep private. But it's a battle. 

Today in church, I was feeling particularly weepy because I spent 12 hours yesterday picking Faith up from her dad's house, driving her to Kansas City to meet my parents so they could take her back to South Dakota with them for the week. She was with her dad last week, my parents this week and then I will pick her up and take her back to her dad's for next week. So I was emotional. 

But we started singing this song: "How He Loves Us" and all of a sudden, it clicked for me. The chorus basically just says "Oh how He loves us," over and over again. And I finally made the connection. 

I get it now.

Just like nothing Faith could ever do/not do would ever make me love her more/less, the same is true for how God sees me. He just loves me unconditionally - as only a Father can. I make mistakes, I let Him down, but He is still just as delighted that I am His daughter.  He can see past the sprawly, kicky, flip floppy disturbances I make in the darkness, because He takes joy in ME. After 25 years of knowing Him, I finally understand. And it frees me to just "be." What a sweet relief. 

Oh, how He loves us.