More From Kim Robinson

Part of serving the Lord is growing in love. It’s easy for me to be flushed with a moment of concern and affection for someone in need, stopping to assist an elderly or over-burdened person with a helping hand, a ride, a hug, a prayer, a bit of money, a meal. However, I don’t have the Lord’s heart for people. My concern tends to be momentary. God’s heart plumbs the depths of our lives and beings with love that endures forever.

I wrote this devotion because of experiencing that difference one day in the waiting room of our local clinic. While I haven’t been immersed in the Spirit’s love to that degree since, I have been repeatedly aware of how briefly I care for others and how deeply God cares. What do we do with that?

Part of what gave me pause was seeing what God valued. Each of us has been specifically designed for our part in the puzzle of life. We add color, shape, design, and meaning to the lives around us. Most of us, when we think of our design, look at our appearance, accomplishments, talents, and gifts to share and often wonder if “talents and gifts” even apply to us. My moment wrapped in our Lord’s grace was revelatory to me; I witnessed that such ego trips have nothing to do with God’s thinking. I had been unconsciously caught up in all the cultural, familial, and personal guilt patterns of failure, missing the mark, and the shame and fear that doctors’ offices can trigger. Part of the brevity of my human love is due to that absorption with distracted thinking. God’s agape love isn’t about how much we measure up. If you have ever cuddled a baby, you may realize that people are the gift. We are what God loves, not our appearance, accomplishments, talents, gifts.

This morning, I was reading our Lord Jesus’ words, “Let the children come to me; do not stop them, for it is to such as these that the kingdom of God belongs. Truly I tell you, whoever does not receive the kingdom of God as a little child will never enter it” (Mk. 10:14-15, NRSVUE).

That made me reflect on how there is a certain magic to children. Recently I hiked along a creek and some waterfalls in the Cascade foothills with a group from our church. A cheery four-year-old was with us, setting a pace the elders among us appreciated. She paused to look up at each passerby, nodding and saying, “Hello.” She got especially excited when two little children around her size came down the trail toward us. She eagerly intercepted them with warm greetings. They were a bit shy but smiled at her enthusiasm, as did every other person on the trail. This reflected Jesus’ hospitality at its best: his open arm visible in the bright face and voice of a curly-headed child.

Part of serving the Lord is growing in love. So I wish us all the simple faith and cheery warmth of a child, shining Jesus’ hospitality to all. May we learn to put away our human judgments and gently plumb the depths of Jesus’ heart for each person.