Having a child means giving up some options. Some of the things I’d thought I’d wanted to do were no longer relevant. But some other things I’d lost sight of over the years were suddenly in focus.
When my son was three months old, a moment came that would have repulsed my pre-baby self. We were playing, and I held him over my head, chattering up into his little face—and he spit up directly into my mouth. I didn’t puke. I laughed. What is this crazy, deep, boundless love that makes a person take leave of her senses? Is this the boundless love that made the prodigal father run to embrace and forgive a much-missed younger child, encompassing even his dirt and sin? Is this the compassion that made him reassure and forgive a disgruntled older son?
Is this how God stands, not at a distance from our dirt and drool, but coming close to mark us with a joyful kiss?
This message is adapted from “Boundless Love: Embracing the Sacrifices” written by Elizabeth Hunter in the April 2005 issue of Lutheran Woman Today (now Gather) magazine.
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