God Does Not Love Me For What I Do

It has been in the difficulty of a fractured finger, that I have been in a posture to hear.

October 19

Three of my young adult children are home because of COVID. One son was supposed to be studying abroad in Copenhagen, the other son was studying abroad in Japan and had to come home early, and my youngest daughter had to come home from a mission trip in Switzerland. So now all three are at home taking their college classes online. This is definitely not their first choice. We are all getting along and for me, it's kind of nice having them home. Although, I am sad for all that they have lost. If it was up to me, I would love for them to be on campus, independent, and enjoying the fullness of the college experience. I know being home is hard for them.

My husband and I, on the other hand, are in the middle of this major remodel. The basement turned into a much bigger project than I imagined it would be. I thought it would simply be bringing cabinets down to the basement from upstairs, moving a door, and putting in a window. We ended up with electrical work, and plumbing, a much bigger window than we dreamed of in the beginning, and because of all this, lots of drywall work. Today the basement is finally livable again. Thank you, Jesus. But as I was cleaning the floors today and getting all the drywall dust, up off the floor, I was thinking about my three pretty much-grown children. When we first moved into the house they worked with me hand in hand as we painted every room, replaced all the flooring in every room, and so much more. But on this project, they have been very much hands-off. I didn't expect them to work on this like they did when we moved almost 6 years ago. They are all taking some pretty hard classes and my daughter is taking 22 credits so that she can graduate in December. They're just really, really busy. When we need an extra hand or a little help here and there, they will, but it's not every day.

As I was cleaning the floors, with one hand, I sense God asking me if I loved them any less because they haven’t been helping me out every day. And I thought, no, not at all. And I realize that this is part of what He's trying to teach me. God does not love me for what I do for Him, just like I don’t love my children for what they do for me. If I had not fractured my finger, I would not have been in a frame of mind to receive a message like that from the Holy Spirit. I would have been quite capable, and never even missed their help. I would have just pushed hard and got it done. I have no problem taking control and getting the job done. I have no problem working hard. But, with my finger fractured, that just isn’t possible. I do need help. But, my love for my children is not dependant on how much they do for me and it is the same with God’s love for me.