As I sit on the floor and observe my seven month old learning to crawl, I imagine that I am much the same in God's eyes. I find great joy in every inch of progress that he makes toward me, though it is accompanied with many stumbles along the way. I find myself cleaning up the messes he makes as he constantly spits up little puddles of milk. There is no possible way he is capable of cleaning up these messes on his own without making larger messes in the process. No, as it is, he plays in these messes instead until I come with a towel to clean his face and wipe up the mess. He is also constantly (maybe purposefully?) losing sight of me and getting distracted by his surroundings, though I am ever reaching my arms out to him, beckoning him to come to me. There are dirty sandals and shoes to which he is somehow naturally attracted and wishes to put them in his mouth. I remove them, of course, since I foresee that his intentions are not in line with his well-being. In all of his shortcomings, however, (for, indeed, he falls short in reaching me) my love is not lessened. If anything it increases with compassion as my heart wells up with a deep sense of being for him. I feel joy in simply watching over him. In my 30 minutes of observation he never once made it to my arms, until I myself initiated and picked him up. It is only with my hands supporting him that he is able to stand firm on his two feet.
As fatherhood is ultimately a metaphor for who God is to us, I am learning much about Him by observing my thoughts and feelings as I observe my son. If my heart is filled with love, joy and pride, though it is severely tainted with sin, how much more in degree and perfection is God's heart (untainted and pure) filled with these emotions as He observes me?
1 John 3:1 (Amplified Bible)
"See what [an incredible] quality of love the Father has given {shown, bestowed on) us, that we should [be permitted to] be name and called and counted the children of God! And so we are!"
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