Thursday, January 9, 2014

WORDS EVERY CHILD LONGS TO HEAR


“Look, Mom! Do you like it?” The four year old, Josh, is holding up his page of writing. Other than his name which is spelled correctly albeit with a backwards S, the page is filled with random letters that don’t spell a thing. But I’m his Mama. I love it, and tell him so.

I turn back to the stack of dishes I’m washing but know it won’t be long before another voice calls for my attention. Two-year-old Ella is next, eager for affirmation as she holds up a piece of paper covered in scribbles. I love her scribbling, and tell her so.

Within moments, Jake, the oldest, holds up a page of snowflakes he’s drawn and asks me what I think. I love them too, and tell him so.

There’s something within us that craves the affirmation of those we adore. We want to know that what we’ve done is good enough. Deeper still, we long to believe that who we are is good enough.  

I’m pleased with you.
I love you.

I’m among the blessed who heard those words from my parents continually.

But we crave something deeper, because who we are goes deeper than our earthly identity. We are creatures, formed out of nothing by the Creator. Deep within pulses this longing for the One who made us to love us, to find us good enough. But sin ruined what could have been.

We listen as the Father speaks to His Son. Perfect words spoken to the Perfect One; eternal words spoken to the Eternal Word.

“You are my Son whom I love; 
with you I am well pleased.” (Mark 1:11)

Before the wilderness, before being tempted for forty days, the Father speaks words of love.   

“You are my Son whom I love; 
with you I am well pleased.”

A glimpse of eternal love and an eternal relationship compressed into spoken words, measured days, and God in flesh. Forty days of temptation. The Word made flesh clinging to the word of God.

Eternity. Thirty three years of humanity. Death. Then eternal life.

We stand as creatures before our Creator and there is nothing good in us. We’ve got nothing to offer. We hold up but a page of scribbling. But grace… 

Grace always amazes most when we see how empty we come.

Words of love that could never have been spoken if not for the Word made flesh. 

Flesh pierced. Buried. Raised again. 

Yes, grace always amazes most when we see our empty hands, when we bring nothing of ourselves, and when we simply see Jesus.

Sin ruined what could have been. But Jesus restored all that was ruined. In Christ, adopted, our Father speaks to us and we hear those words of love that every child longs to hear.
The LORD your God is in your midst, a mighty one who will save; he will rejoice over you with gladness; he will quiet you by his love; he will exult over you with loud singing. (Zephaniah 3:17)