I Love Your Guts

I love your guts!  That has been our theme for today.  Henry has been saying it to me for days now, and I love it.  I love your guts.  I love even the deep down dark places.  The icky things that little boys love to talk about, like guts.  I like to think that’s how Jesus feels about us.  He loves us no matter what, even our guts. 

“For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, ³⁹ neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.”

That’s in Romans.  Go to chapter 8, and run your finger down the page until you come to verse 38.  Go ahead and read it, I’ll wait.

I especially like the part that says ‘nor anything else in all creation’.  That’s pretty big.  Nothing, I mean nothing, in all of creation can possibly separate us from the love of God.  Just let that sink in a minute.  Whoa, right?

I think this is something that little kids know instinctively.  We show them love from the minute they are born.  They whine and fuss, throw tantrums and cop attitudes.  We correct them, we hug them, and they know that no matter what, we love them.  People seem to forget this as they grow up.  We all seem to grow out of it or something.  We start thinking that we need to earn love.  We need to do all the right things to deserve it.  But that’s not how it works, is it?  We don't take our love away because someone messes up.  We don't wait to check off boxes while someone earns it.  Neither does He.  Love is a gift.  A free gift to anyone willing to accept it.  Love is God’s free gift to us.  All we have to do is say ‘Yes, please!  Thank you.  I love you too!’

I don’t do all the right things.  Just thinking about the idea of doing the 'right things' makes me laugh!  I mess up all the time.  Not just little stuff like, whoops!  Forgot the laundry.  But the kind of stuff you think about after everyone is asleep.  I lay in bed wondering if I’ve permanently damaged my kids today.  Did I yell too much?  Did I remember to ask for their forgiveness when I lost my mind?  Did I remember to show them just how much I love them?  Did I do enough?  Does He know just how much ick and crud and crap I’m full of?  How could anyone love my guts?  They're gross.

But of course He does.

I wrestle with my doubts.  I scream (mostly in my head) and throw a tantrum in front of God.  I want to know that I’m not in it alone, that we're all not alone.  I want to know that I’m not wading through this ick and crap and crud all by myself.  I want to know that even though the world tears itself apart on a daily basis, He's still there helping us through the sludge.  I want to know that I haven’t screwed up so big that the damage is irreversible.  I want to have my cry, my moment of frustration, or anger, or whatever is called for.  I want to curl up in His lap, and feel his arms hug me.  And I do, and He does.  Big sigh...He’s there, doing that, right now.  He’s there, telling us it’s okay.  We'll get through this. 

I forgive you.  I love your guts.

Isn't that awesome?