Unalterably His.

I am simply going quote this because the parallel is so wonderful. I'm reading a book by Max Lucado and in the chapter I'm on right now, he is posing the question, "why in the world does God even love us.?" After all we have done to him, he still loves us the same. How? He writes:

“Moms: why do you love your newborn? For months this baby has brought you pain. She (or he!) made you break out in pimples and waddle like a duck. Because of her you craved sardines and crackers and threw them up in the morning. She punched you in the tummy. She occupied space that wasn’t hers and ate food she didn’t fix.

You kept her warm. You kept her safe. You kept her fed. But did she say thank you?
Are you kidding? She’s no more out of the womb than she starts to cry! The room is too cold, the blanket is too rough, the nurse is too mean. And who does she want? Mom.

Don’t you ever get a break? I mean, who has been doing the work the last 9 months? Why can’t Dad take over? But no, Dad won’t do. The baby wants Mom.

She didn’t even tell you she was coming. She just came. And what a coming! She rendered you a barbarian. You screamed. You swore. You bit bullets and tore the sheets. And now look at you. Your back aches. Your head pounds. Your body is drenched in sweat. Every muscle strained and stretched.

You should be angry, but are you?

Far from it. On your face is a for-longer-than-forever love. She has done nothing for you; yet you love her. She’s brought pain to your body and nausea to your morning, yet you treasure her. Her face is wrinkled and her eyes are dim, yet all you can talk about are her good looks and bright future. She’s going to wake you up every night for the next six weeks, but that doesn’t matter. You’re crazy about her.

Why? Why does a mother love her newborn? Because the baby is hers? Even more. Because the baby is her. Her blood. Her flesh. Her sinew and spine. Her hope. Her legacy. It bothers here not that the baby gives her nothing. She knows a newborn is helpless, weak. She knows babies don’t ask to come into this world.

And God knows we didn’t either. We are his idea. We are his. His face. His eyes. His hands. His touch. We are his…unalterably. He loves us. Undyingly. Nothing can separate us from the love of Christ (Rom 8:38-39).”