Recently I have had a refresher course in how the loving God feels about each one of us. We’ve had our first grandchild and needless to say, the entire clan is smitten. We were lucky enough to spend most of her first month in close proximity; I had forgotten that there is something particularly appealing about babies before they can even smile. They are so helpless, so serious, gaze at you with such unblinking intensity. Their skin is flawless, their breath is sweet. The back of their necks smells swooningly delicious.
You can easily spend a great deal of time simply looking at them. I gazed at this tiny new person and was consumed with love, even though she had done nothing whatsoever to provoke or deserve or earn or stimulate this. She just lay there, and we loved her.
Maybe that’s a reflection of how God feels about us. Maybe God regards me, with my wrinkled skin and sour morning breath and cranky moods and is melted, blown away by delight. A favourite verse of mine from the book of the prophet Isaiah reads: “You shall no more be termed Forsaken, and your land shall no more be termed Desolate; but you shall be called My Delight is in Her.”
The birth of a baby is central to the Christian faith. As I hold my granddaughter, I am reminded once again of a God who loves us unconditionally, maybe even takes delight in us.
Clare Boyd-Macrae is an Age contributor.
