But he starts to cry. He wanted to run and play. He wants to be free. But I’m holding him back.
I do it out of love, but he misunderstands.
Sometimes God shouts “hold on!”
And I cry “why?!” I want to run. I want to be free. But God’s holding me back.
God does it out of love. But I misunderstand.
I force-feed him food that he doesn’t want to finish. You think I enjoy spending 30 minutes making you eat while my own food gets cold? I get nothing out of this. I do it for you. For your health. I do it because I love you. But he misunderstands. I’m ruining his life. He’d rather just drink milk all day.
God force-feeds me things I don’t want to learn. “I already know all this! What are you doing?!” But he does it for me, not for him. He does it because he loves me, but I misunderstand. I don’t want solid food. give me milk.
I don’t like it but I do it. I do nonsense things to make him laugh. I wouldn’t do it for anyone else. Only because of love. But he misunderstands. He thinks he runs faster than me. Maybe he thinks I’m like a clown, that I’m silly or conceited, a baby just like him.
God does nonsense things to make me laugh. It gives him joy to see me smile. But I misunderstand. Do I think he’s just like me? walks like me, talks like me, makes mistakes like me? Maybe what I see isn’t the whole picture. Maybe he dances just to see me smile.
Every so often I change his diaper. I don’t like doing it. It’s dirty and smelly. I wouldn’t do it for anyone else. But he’s my child. He sees it as a right. I better change that diaper. He misunderstands my love.
My diaper is dirty and full of sin. I really can’t change it myself. So God takes the old diaper with his bare hands. He wouldn’t do it for anyone else. But I’m his child. And the old is gone. Behold, the new has come. But I take it for granted what He did for me. I misunderstand his love.
He doesn’t want to go to sleep. There are so many more things to do. But there’s a time for everything, and it’s time to sleep. I’m right there to help him sleep, to put his soul to rest. This too is love.
I don’t want to die yet. There are so many more things to do. But there’s a time for everything, and it’s time to sleep. God’s right there for those who sleep, to enter into his Rest. This too is love.
But he does understand gifts. He gets excited when I buy him a toy, a car. It’s so fleeting and temporal. It’s cheap. But it speaks his language. He understands this to be love, so I give him lots of it. But love is more than this. He misunderstands.
I love God for his gifts. I appreciate the toys, the car, the house. It’s so fleeting and temporal. It’s cheap. But it speaks my language. My limited perspective sees this as love, and God showers me with so many gifts – clothes, friends, shelter, breath. But love is more than this. I misunderstand.
When he bumps his head, which happens a lot, it gives me pain too. Love is pain. I would even give my life for him, but he would misunderstand. Baby don’t know what it means.
When I hit a bump, which happens a lot, it gives Him pain too. Love is pain. He even gave his life for me. But some people misunderstand. I guess some people never understand his love.
Now I have brand new daughter. 5 weeks old. oh great. another one to "love"
I hope you don't misunderstand.