Out of the blue I get a text message from one of my daughters. Realistically it could be any one of the three of them, but this particular message really stirs me up.
I am overcome with love for the simple yet powerful message that she communicates. It’s a message of joy for the memories of happy childhood days she has. With the message comes a song that depicts this joy. I watch the song and about midway through tears are running down my cheeks, my chin’s quivering and I’m a mess in seconds.
I’m not an unusual father. I have so much love for my children, and I’m constantly inspired by them, by what they’ve made of their lives, and who they are.
I think ever since they’ve have grown up, I have carried a grief in my heart, because they are no longer little girls, and they have their own lives now. Even though I’ve done my job, it’s somehow sad that that job is done. Not that support isn’t still needed.
When my eldest turned 18, which is nearly 10 years ago now, I carried a baby photo of her around with me for two years, and I genuinely grieved the fact that perhaps I’ve done such a good job at being a parent, she didn’t need me anymore.
There is something wonderfully deep and mysterious about love. It is a far more pervasive power than fear or hate or anything else that’s negative.
A powerful dose of love heals us in a flash.
In some seasons of life, we can very well become quite hard of heart. I’ve had that occur to me a bit in the past 10 years. We can become so tormented by such a process of bitterness and resentment but notice what the purity of love does.
As I look back over the years where my daughters and I had many precious dates and living experiences together, there are so many memories. Like whole day tours of window-shopping, trips to the beach, cricket games, school drop-offs and pick-ups, graduations, pamper parties, wheelbarrow rides, etc. One of the best memories is sitting there and listening, especially in painful times, and so I have counted it a privilege to be their father. More than that; it blows me away.
The giving and receiving of love is such a potent elixir for the trials and travesties of life — for which there are many. When the apostle Paul encouraged the Philippians to focus on whatever is pure and wholesome and praiseworthy and noble — and to “think on these things” — I think he had this thing in mind: there is the potential in love to heal anything in an instant at least for that instant.
Love melts the heart, and so long as pride is quashed by the sensibilities of understanding, where we experience the feeling of being valued, even prized, love makes a way through to forgiveness and wholeness with much ado about nothing.
It’s just like Jesus on the cross. What Christ did for us two millennia ago that we could not do it for ourselves is such a compelling statement of love that it heals us for all time.
One event in history does all that. One event in history heals all of history itself. And though it cost Jesus his life, the cross itself gives all humanity harmony with God.
This is the power of love. One taste of this love can heal all the hate and fear in the world.
It took a daughter’s love, communicated in a fresh way, to open the teary gate of love. I’m so glad for that portion of God’s healing through the simplicity of being so valued.
God values each one of us more than we can imagine. There’s nothing we can do to change God’s mind or history for that matter. We are loved. That’s all that matters.
Jesus showed us with outstretched arms on the cross just how comprehensive is the love of God.
Image: Daughter date c. 2008.
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