Loving Jesus Back

I confess that for several years I lived in my parents home as a selfish and immature non-contributor.  My lack of self-control was so complete that I was incontinent, and I didn’t care.  Disregarding the evidence my parents pursued a relationship with me, caring for me despite my narcissism.  It was a one-sided arrangement in which they gave and I took.  I didn’t even consider it a relationship because I wasn’t even sure they existed when I did not need them. I did appreciate it when they showed up to give me something.  Then, when I was three or four, it occurred to me that they might have lives of their own. That’s when I decided to participate and chose to have a relationship with them.

Grace sets us on a path of redemption we have no right to tread.  Christ pursues us.  He recognized us as those he would add to his family before the foundation of the world.  He then spent millennia carrying out a plan to cancel the consequences of our selfishness.  He extended his grace and made forgiveness and relationship possible.   Like my parents, he loved me long before I responded.

The history of grace that has been extended to me by God, my parents, and others created an environment where I could grow.  As to my progress I can report with certainty is that I was successfully potty-trained.  So I have that incontinence bit knocked for now.  Still working on the selfishness thing.

The gospel is that I get to set aside my self-centered self-rule and submit to the direct guidance and protection of the all-giving God.  When I responded to this good news and decided to participate it blessed him.  I’d like to think that he is impressed with my contribution to the kingdom; that he wonders to the Holy Spirit, “how did we get along without him?”  The reality is that my response in itself pleases him.  I suspect his pleasure is similar to that of my parents when I presented them with a thing of beauty made with paste, crayons, and leaves. 

I’m learning that it is the relationship that matters.  I present my paltry best efforts with a five year-old’s pride, thinking, “look what I made for you”, and he accepts it with joy.