Adventures with Velcro Baby

September 14, 2009
To say that my baby is quite independent would be a serious understatement. She's not interested in cuddling or curling up in my lap. However, every so often (perhaps on a full moon, I never check. joke) London turns into a baby that can only be compared to velcro, or maybe saran wrap...or static cling. I was never one of those mothers that learned to do everything with one hand or using my feet because she was never in my arms all the time.
Today was one of the velcro baby days and by bedtime, I'm quite frazzled. However, I feel so much closer to her after these days than the ones that she wants to do things on her own. I have been pondering lately on all the things she could grow up and do that would hurt me. She could throw caution to the wind and ignore all those words of safety spoken to her through the years. She could be a young woman that gets so angry with me, that she refuses to let me into her life. She could hide away in her room downstairs and won't talk to me about what's hurting her. I could look into her eyes and see struggle, a deep need to be loved, but she's looking everywhere but to me.
...man, how often do we do that with God? I have been that young woman, looking for love and acceptance everywhere but my Father. The One that is just waiting for me to look in His direction so He could finally put my fears at ease and tell me that I'm beautiful.
I'm a big "rules" person. I love authority and see everything black and white. Before London, I figured God was just angry with people that didn't believe in Him or follow Him. Here He was, pouring out His life, and they were ignoring it. Now, as a parent, I see how it probably really is. His heart is broken. God picked out your eye color and wanted it to match the sky after a storm...or formed this man to look so much like the grandpa that loved him. He made her a mate perfect for her...watched his first steps and rejoiced with his parents.
It's hard to imagine God loving me like I love London. After a day of me crawling into His lap and refusing to be distanced from Him for too long...just smiling to Himself about how much He adores me. Marveling over the beauty that He sees in me that others never will. It's hard to imagine because He's God. The heavens declare the work of His hands. I only have a clean kitchen (sometimes) to show the work of my hands and He has stars too many to count and thousands of times the size of the sun. Yet, He loves you. Loves you like your mom and dad could never even come close to when you were a teeny 6 month old like London, being rocked and fed a bottle. I think it's time I became a velcro Christian.