Quantifying Love

When I went to Chicago a couple months ago I had lots of time to talk to Aunt Mandy. That's one of the best parts of our time spent together, we always have great conversations. We got onto the topic of infertility and Mandy brought up a common struggle people have when dealing with fertility problems.

Putting God's love in a box. Telling God, 'if you love me, you'll give me a baby'. By doing this, we not only seem to think we can make grand demands of God, we also limit what God can really do. Mandy said it much better than I can, but essentially we are telling God we will only accept and know His love through this one avenue. Yet He has so many more ways in which He wants to show His love!  He built the heavens and the earth for us to enjoy. He blesses us beyond measure, and yet so often when we are struggling (be it fertility or otherwise) we decide that unless God does this one thing on our own agenda, the rest of it is for nothing.

Now, I'm not saying we don't appreciate His abundant blessings. We just suffer from tunnel vision sometimes and the trials of this life often make that worse.

For me, though, God's love wasn't what I was attempting to quantify. It was His faith and trust in me. I am, at times, a bit of a perfectionist and when I decide to do something I aim to do it perfectly. I aim to be better than I even think possible. With that, I yearn for tangible evidence that my efforts have succeeded. I long to know that the people at the top of whatever my mission may be (band, work, family, etc) are pleased. I want them to be proud of what I've done and have faith that I can do more, and do it even better. 

The problem is, I have attempted to define how God's faith and trust in me will be measured. It has been His greatest calling in my life for me to be William's mom and I have determined that if I do that job well enough He'll grant me the blessing again. Unfortunately, in my mind, the inverse is true too. 

If I do not do this job well enough, I will not be given another baby.

I think I'm a good mom, but I know I'm not perfect. How could I be? I also know God doesn't expect me to be. But somehow the lines get blurred through all of the pain and frustration and too many times I've found myself crying, 'what am I doing so wrong with William that you won't allow me to do it again?'

I don't struggle much with quantifying God's love for me. I think my dad's battle with cancer and the fact that I lost him at 13 helped me understand long ago that His love comes in His ways.  We can not measure it by our own desires. His trust, though. I thought I could define his trust. I thought I was missing the mark as a mom in earning that trust, but really I was missing the mark in understanding it.