My uncle is not a man who shows his affection very much. He is a war veteran, perhaps a touch hardened by all he has seen. He carries the mindset that the women are to do all the work. Telling me numerous times to “run along and go help the other women.” He is not afraid to speak his mind, and does so whenever he is led. Either a comparison comment to a raccoon during my junior high years in regards to my makeup, or a criticism of my major of choice in college, he always has something. Growing up I dreaded it, and indeed I do still dread it now. This weekend my uncle came to dinner wearing a Grand Valley t-shirt I had given him a previous Christmas. Without a word, my uncle conveyed to me that he does care. His hard-hitting comments may sting, but underneath it he cares.
How wonderful is our God that we have no need to search for his signs of affection? Whether it be in the sunrises and sunsets he orchestrates each day, or in something else that touches our heart, we don’t have to search very far. God did not have to create this beautiful world for us, he didn’t have to give us varying seasons or settings. But He loved us enough to do it. He desires to make us happy. I know that I, for one, do not stop and consider this often. I am admittedly quick to complain when plans don’t quite go my way. I wonder what new perspective I could be given on life if I stopped to view everything through the eyes of a Creator who made all of this, every last detail, for me? I remember the feeling at five years old, after having spent countless minutes in school fashioning a Christmas present for my mom. I examined every detail of her reaction when my creation was finally presented to her. Oh how my heart would have been crushed if she tossed it aside with a quick thank you, without true recognition of all the work I had put into it. Colors made just for her, a treasure I was sure she would place in the most important of spots. How often do I look at everything God has created and given to me and not give it a second thought? I toss aside His perfectly made creation. How many times greater is His work then the small tokens I presented to my mother? He yearns for us to accept His love. He desires to walk closely with us. How can I measure the feeling I must cause in His heart when I chose otherwise?
