I have always been fascinated by the endless signposts that God has strategically implanted throughout his creation in order that we might see and pursue him. These signs enact as fingerprints, pointing any who are open to the one behind the curtain. The term I have come to love to refer to this phenomenon, is microcosm. There are so many aspects of creation, daily life and relationships, our physiological and psychological makeup… which so powerfully point to and represent much bigger and greater truths/realities (namely, who God is and what are relationship is to him). I “pen” this article today with a heavy heart and a “full pen”, as my life has recently been flooded with such signposts, and I can hardly slow down enough to recognize and/or process them all. I hope and pray, however, that in writing this it will make sense and that it will leave an impact upon you, as it is now impacting me.
My wife and I have recently become new foster parents, and have had a little girl placed with us in our home. While I always knew that there were many powerful correlations between parenthood and our relationship with God, there have been several aspects of our foster-parenthood which I had never given much thought (much less feeling). It first must be explicitly expressed that my wife and I love this baby as our own, and have adored her and the experience that it has been to bring her into our home. Absolutely nothing has been the same since we brought her in to our lives and into our hearts. As I hold this tiny and frail bundle in my arms, it astounds me how this little person in my arms could hold such a big piece of me. I cannot sufficiently explicate how much she means to me, and to us.
One night, while rocking her to sleep, I was singing the same worship song that my wife and I had song together in her room not long before she entered our home, and my heart broke. It occurred to me that she may not stay with us, and, even more, that she may forget us and all of the moments that we spent with her. She may never know how much we love her. She may never know all that we sacrificed for her and how much we strived to love her and care for her as best as we could. She may never remember all of the late nights and early mornings, the prayers, the songs, the books… she may never remember our faces, our voices, our love…. The thought broke my heart, and with a heavy heart I began to pray that God’s hand would remain with her, even if we cannot, and that he would protect her as we cannot; that even if we are to lose her and she is to forget us, that she would know that she is loved and that she would grow to know, love, and serve God.
What struck me about this realization is that this is but a glimpse of what it must be for God. To think that he so lovingly and purposely created objects of his affection, and that he so valued them and cared for them that he even took on flesh only for it to be broken for them; that he took veins filled with human blood, only to spill it out on their behalf. He so loved his creation that he entered it and gave his life for it. While this would be, in and of itself, such an emphatic and powerful act of love, how much more so once we realize that he did all of this for people who will never know him. He gave his life for so many who will never know or care what he has done for them. While my heart aches for my own situation, I found myself broken over what that must be like for God the Father. While it is absolutely my hope that she will stay in our home, I praise God that he has allowed me a slight glimpse into his heart, to see and know a small piece of what it is like to lovingly sacrifice for one who may not ever appreciate or reciprocate such love. I praise God for not allowing this to discourage him from loving them the same, and still giving up his Son and paying the price for their sins even though they may not accept it, appreciate it, or even acknowledge it. What a God we serve.