Revolutionary Love (Or Even Like?)

I came upon an interesting idea today. Please ignore the simplicity of the thought; if you let it, it may be revolutionary. It is this:

What if God actually likes me.

I get that God loves me, you know? I think we all sorta get that. Even if we don’t go to church, even if we don’t really have a relationship with the Creator of the Universe. Most people (and it’s cool if you’re not one of them, I guess I’m just generalizing) have at least heard it somewhere that God the Father loves us.

I get that God loves me. I get that He loves me just the same as I get that my parents had to love me through my crappy teenaged years. Yeah, they loved me. They put up with the monster that was disguised as me for those dreadful, hormonal years. They waited for all that attitude, all of those harsh “Ughhhhhh, you are RUINING MY LIFE”s to “PLEASE, OH GOD, JUST GO AWAY ALREADY.” I realized today that I’m pretty sure God loves me just the same as that. I’ve done a good job at convincing myself (and my own Dad tells me I have a creative imagination, capable of inventing the most elaborate worst-case-scenarios) that the moment I wake up, I have to answer God with a sigh of, “I’m sorry” as He shakes His sorrowful head. He is solemn and frustrated with me, yet not at all surprised, and says, “You didn’t get up when you said you would.”

So, here’s my revolutionary idea:

What if. What if God is more of an easily-amused, jubilant child on a sunny Saturday morning. What if He is oblivious to the flaw in the ringing of the snooze button for the 8th time and instead cracks up, laughs, “Ha!! Hit it again!! Hit it again!!” And what ifwhen I get up, finally, He is waiting for me in the kitchen trying to stifle his laughter, getting ready to yell “SURPRISE!” with a banner hanging over His head reading, “YOU DID IT!” And what if He sits with me in the bathroom as I shower and says thoughtfully, “I’m really glad you got that extra sleep.”

Well, if you consider your quiet morning time as sacred as I do, you won’t be as excited about the peppy Morning-God. But you catch my drift, right? I mean, can you even imagine it? What if God is actually nothing like a Disappointed Disciplinarian Dad, whom you can never please?

Honestly, the thought scares me. If Dad isn’t telling me how I’m doing everything wrong, then who will? If I always feel good about myself and everything I’m doing, then won’t I be naive, oblivious, ignorant? Won’t I look really bad? Won’t I be incredibly hurt when someone at work counter’s God’s “You’re doing everything so well!” with a “Why were you late today?” Won’t it feel like falling down a flight of stairs? Won’t I deserve it? What happens when peppy Morning-God’s hot air balloon of Love gets popped mid-flight?

So, I guess you’d say I’m afraid of heights. I’m afraid to be let down and to look dumb. But I think I might just try it. Because what if?What exactly could my life look like if I actually that God loved – no REALLY LOVED, even LIKED (imagine that!?) – me?

Would I actually enjoy spending time with Him if I believed He enjoys spending time with me? Would I be able to actually trust Him if I believed, maybe, He trusts me? Would I be able to stand confident in God’s love if I really believed He sees no flaw in me?

Maybe it’s revolutionary. Maybe not.


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