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so i had this thought about babies tonight…
every parent believes that their baby is the cutest baby around…the most beautiful eyes…the rosiest cheeks…the biggest smile…the sweetest little nose and the dimpled chin.
absolutely perfect.
there is no other baby…there has never ever even been another baby that is cuter, smarter, faster, prettier, more even-tempered baby than yours.
parents look into their baby’s face and they see beauty and intelligence and ability. when compared to other babies…well, there is no comparison. you can see it in a parent’s face… in their eyes as they show the pictures…or in their voice as they retell epic stories of climbing tall buildings or running 4.3 forties or reciting the gettysburg address…all before their first birthday.
are parents that wacko? are they so obsessed with their own product that they only see what they want to see? this seems like pure craziness. but not so fast…
here’s the thing: the way a dad looks at his baby son…as the cutest, best, most beautifully perfect baby ever born…above and beyond and to the exclusion of all others…is exactly the way that god looks at us. god stares into our eyes and sees the beauty of his own creation…the most faultless, flawless, textbook, picture perfect example of his divine handiwork.
i know there are people that genuinely struggle with the idea of a personal creator-god who lovingly and patiently interacts with us, his creation. but i am not one of those who struggle…
my faith is fortified every time i watch my own son look into the eyes of my grandson…he sees his own. when his mother stares with absolute blind affection at the life that was formed inside of her…she sees her own. and every other baby pales in comparison.
and my belief in the god of wonders explodes with conviction.
babies. such profound little bundles of theology.
and for the record, as near-perfect as i happen to believe my grandson is (a 4.3 forty might be stretching it a little…), my boys were still the cutest ever.
once a dad…always a dad.
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