He Loves Us More

As a mom, I have this desire to control everything that happens in front of, around, and to my daughter.  I have this desire to protect her from all fears, and hurts, and pains.  And then I have the tendency to find myself wallowing in frustration because I just can't do it all all of the time.

For one thing, I am not always with her.  But even when I am, I really have no control. 

When Emily went to a friend's house a couple of months ago, I had no idea that the mother would leave the 2 five years-olds home alone to walk down the street to pick up her other child.  I had no idea that the 2 girls would get into the baking soda and make a large mess, upsetting the mother.  I had no idea the friend would accidentally lock her and Emily into the bathroom where they couldn't get out without help.  And I had no idea that just a few short hours would instill so much fear and insecurity in my sweet daughter.  I had no control.

When the kids at school ask her again and again why she doesn't have a daddy, and I see the discouragement in her eyes, I have no control.

When the crowds of Chinese people surround her to take just one more picture or stroke her hair just one more time, I can ask them not to (if that's what Emily wants), but really...I have no control.

We just got back from a fantastic 2 day trip (blog post coming soon).  It was a wonderful trip, but there was one incident in particular that motivated me to write this blog.  We had been walking for a while down a street called Center Street.  It was blocked off for pedestrians and had many beautiful ice and snow sculptures to look at, plus lots of shopping and restaurants.  Emily was filled with excitement and had been running from one ice sculpture to the next.  She couldn't wait to figure out what the next one was!  We were at the end of the street and getting ready to go into our last shop for the evening.  Emily began running toward the doors to the store, and there was a car...  Apparently this part of the street had not been blocked off.  As soon as I spotted the car, I shouted for her to stop, but she couldn't hear me with her hood on.  I continued shouting and ran after her to stop her.

Thankfully, she was physically fine and it didnt make for a big scene.  But it was enough to shake us.  As tears streamed down her face, I hugged her and squeezed her as tight as I could.  Everything in me wanted to break.  I was overwhelmed with emotion, but when Emily finally had the strength to talk, she whispered, "Are you mad at me, Mommy?", I knew I had to pull myself together for Emily.  I said, "No baby, I'm not mad at you.  You didn't know there were cars.  Mommy didn't know there were cars.  I'm just glad you're okay.  Mommy loves. you."  She asked me several times that night if I was mad at her.  She told me she was "sorry" nuemrous times.  My poor baby was so scared and frightened and everything in me wanted to erase that moment, but I had no control.

I woke up during the early morning that morning and glanced over at Emily sleeping in the hotel bed, and tears streamed down my face.  I was so glad she was okay.  Everything in me wanted to wake her up and squeeze her, and never let go.  I experienced this indescribable, overwhelming love that I have for my daughter.  It's almot a love that hurts.  I wondered, how is it possible to love someone THIS much?  And He...  my Jesus... whispered to my soul... "I love you more than that."

I can't possibly begin to explain or comprehend how much I love my daugther.  So to grasp that HE LOVES ME MORE, I can hardly fathom that.  But He does.  And He loves her more.  And the mother with the baking soda, He loves her more.  And the kids at school that do have daddies, He loves them more.  And the Chinese crowd with their cameras, He loves them more.  He loves you more.

I love David Crowder's words in his song "How He Loves Us".