HIS LOVE

Picture it:

Four-and-a-half years ago.

The summer of 2018.

In the dead heat of a New Mexico Summer.

A young, barely beginning blogger (who we love and sometimes tolerate), cannot believe the catastrophe that is playing across the television screen before her.

We are champions.

We don't make mistakes.

This is not possible.

And yet, it was. Germany went out of the World Cup, in the Group Stage.

On the heels of not only a World Cup win, but a Confederations to boot, the loves of my life we're losing, and there was nothing I could do about it. (If you care to review my immediate feelings in vivid detail, click here.)

Flash forward four years, and the same blogger, a little older, a littler wiser, and somewhat recovered from the ordeal, is sitting in the chapel. Not routine for a Saturday, apart from the one that like clockwork precedes everyone's favorite Sunday of the Year: Primary Program Sunday.

Watching as the kids rushed off for their bathroom break and righting herself after searching for the most minuscule of Lego pieces, a sweet voice rang in the mooch's ear, requesting something.

"Ellie, do you have any tweezers?"

Even if she'd had a pair in her purse, the answer at the moment would have been the same. "No, I'm sorry! I don't have any on me!"

Accompanied by a furrowed brow came the reprimand. "All parents are supposed to have tweezers."

The out presented itself. "I'm not a parent."

The response to her rebuttal was immediate, heartwarming, and nonnegotiable. "Yes you are. You're a mom to all of the [Primary] children."

Now, to the naked eye, the stories relayed above seem to have no linking thread between them. It is only in the convoluted psyche of a writer that the connection is made clear.

I believe that Christ's love is evident in both of these snapshots from my life, and if you give me a minute, I'll show you how.

The Germany loss was devastating, to say the least. What the young blogger thought was going to be a summer filled with soccer and victories took a sharp turn entirely too quickly. Arrogantly confident, she was forced to backtrack along with the team she loved so dearly. (for a glimpse at such gumption, click here.)

However, her devotion to them never wavered. Despite the outcome, the perceived failure, and the slight humiliation, she continued to cheer them on in the matches that followed. And, after the proper mourning period, she began to look ahead to the future, setting her sights on what she knew her team could achieve over the next four years.

The elder blogger was on the receiving end of such a love that Fall Morning inside the chapel doors. Though she had not set the intention to do so, she was selling herself short, not giving herself credit where credit was due.

Was she a mother to each and very child within the boundaries of her arms? No. But she loved them fiercely. She prayed for them. She sought her best to teach them all she knew, and bring a smile to their faces.

She might not be a mother yet, or possibly ever, but that didn't matter. Like the many women who had mothered her over the years, she was becoming more like her Savior. And from the mouth of babes and their careful observations, she caught a glimpse of her potential.

These, are the types of love that Christ shows to us.

How many times do we stumble? How many times do we fall, caught tripping on the same rock? How many times is the Lord called upon to help us pick ourselves up, dust ourselves off, and assure us that we can do it?

Does the height of His love ever differ? Does He ever turn us away, abandoning us after the fiftieth mistake that day? Does He ever stop cheering us on?

No. Never. Christ is no fair weather fan. He is all in. Because, He knows who we are. We are His.

Christ is truly the only person to ever know exactly how we feel. Our heartaches, our sorrows, our joys, and our triumphs. He has experienced it all. In all honestly, He knows us better than we know ourselves. Our dreams, our aspirations, our potential. He knows it all, and He is desperate to help us see it.

As our own worst critics, we often choose to see the worst in ourselves. Christ does the opposite. He chooses to see the best in us.

Where we see a flaw, He sees a chance for growth. Where we see an insecurity, He sees a part of our soul that is beyond precious to Him. Where we see a misstep, He sees a chance to grow closer to Him.

Christ's love is an all encompassing, all consuming, empowering kind of love. It can be found anywhere, in the darkest of nights and in the brightest of days. In the words of a child, and in a swift exit from the World Cup.

His love is always there. As we look, we will see it shining. And, we will want to share it with others, just as the sweet Primary Child did.

However, if Germany happens to bow out early once again (impossible), be prepared to wait the proper time period before expecting me to converse openly. Thank you.