Last weekend, I got to hang out with my godson.
He’s nearly one, is taking his first few steps and cutest of all, his mum is teaching him how to give kisses and cuddles. He hasn’t quite mastered kisses yet…he makes ‘O’ shapes with his mouth and sort of smudges your cheek with a goldfish-mouth. It’s about as adorable as it gets.
Over mugs of tea, we watched him crawl across the carpet, stop, giggle, try to stand up, wobble, land on his bum, up again, down again and so on. Every time he stood up, we waited to see if he’d try another faltering step. Sometimes he managed one…then two…then back down with a plop on his Pampers-padded bum.
We were cheering him on, willing him to go further…smiling and giving little cheers whenever he stayed upright for a couple of seconds, and offering a chorus of sympathetic ‘oohhhhsss’ when he didn’t.
The point is, we wanted him to go further, to be stronger, to reach higher. We celebrated when he managed it, commiserated when he didn’t. One thing is for sure, as the weeks go by, he will grow stronger….because he’ll keep on trying.
Which made me wonder if God looks at us in the same way?
There’s this verse in Zephaniah that I love:
The Lord your God is with you, the Mighty Warrior who saves. He will take great delight in you; in his love he will no longer rebuke you, but will rejoice over you with singing.” (Zephaniah 3:17 NIV)
When I read that, I think about how I feel when I’m with a little boy who isn’t even mine. If I look at him with such affection…then what must God think when He looks at me?
Or at you?