What Really Matters

We had to have Thanksgiving a day late, to accommodate my busy daughter, son, and daughter-in-law's schedule. What a blessing to see them. There is little I would rather do than see my kids. I assume every mom feels that way. They mean so much to me.

God could have made humans like crocodiles. Once croc babies are born, they are on their own. Some crocoldile mamas will help their little snappers down to the water, but then she smacks them on their scaley behinds, and says, "Happy life! Eat or be eaten." Thus ends her maternal protection.

In contrast, God made human mothers so that their young matter more than life to them. Whether we want to or not, we worry, we grieve, we applaud, we pray without ceasing on their behalf for years. In fact, their entire life. We watch as hopefully and as closely as we are allowed to be sure the world doesn't swallow them whole. I would die for my children.

Fortunately, this Thanksgiving, I didn't have to die for them. I just had to make a bunch of luscious dishes to remind them that I love them enough to die for them. (For someone who's not fond of cooking, this is dying for them, in a way...)

God DID die for His children. Literally.  He knew we would never make it if He didn't find a way to cover our wretched sins so we could find our way back to Him. As a parent, I totally sympathize with God.

1 Timothy 5:8

But if anyone does not provide for his relatives, and especially for members of his household, he has denied the faith and is worse than an unbeliever.