My son’s dog, Kira, is 85 pounds of a highly energetic two-year-old German shepherd…who lovingly means well in everything she does. With unbridled gusto, she endeavors to “help” however she can—from washing the kitchen floor when she gets a drink of water, to thinning out the lilies when she digs a hole to China… in my garden. Quite honestly, I didn’t know I needed to go to China but well… you know.
But she loves me. Doesn’t that count for something—this dog loves me? I know that if danger were looking me in the face, danger wouldn’t stand a chance. I mean, danger would want to run to China. That hole in my garden would be a welcome site. And so, the slobbered-up kitchen floor and the gargantuan hole in my front yard take second, maybe even last place, to what really matters in the day-to-day, because… it’s about love. But not about her love for me, no, my love for her.
That’s how God loves us. He sees our mess-ups, our good and even our bad intentions and loves us far greater than we can imagine—in spite of ourselves. That’s why He sent Jesus. Jesus finds us right where we are—in the assorted holes we’ve dug and in all the ruins we’ve created—and says, (in paraphrase), “Let me help you. That’s why I came. I didn’t come to judge you, but to help you. Let me pick you up from the mess you’ve made, the mess you’re in.” And when we ask Him to help us, He puts His Spirit within us and gives us a new heart. Little-by-little, we begin to see, because He now lives in our hearts, fewer holes and… more lilies.
