Some days my children are gorgeous. They play nicely together. They make each other laugh. They share adventures. They create things. They listen and follow instructions. And I look at them and think I must be doing something right.
Some days my children are a handful. They rile each other up. They have tantrums. They are disobedient. They break things. They draw on walls. And I look at them and wonder what I’m doing wrong.
I love my children on the good days. I love them just the same on the hard days. My love for them is not dependent on their behaviour. I love them because they are mine. Nothing they could do could make me love them more. Nothing they could do could make me love them less.
My children are so much like me. Some days I am gorgeous. Some days I am a handful. I too am loved unconditionally – by the One who is perfect. His love for me is not dependent on my behaviour. He loves me because I am His. Nothing I could do could make Him love me more. Nothing I could do could make Him love me less.
That kind of love frees me from the impossible pursuit of perfection. I am free to be imperfect. And so are my kids.
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