How much does God love his children?

Yesterday I wrote about how much we love our children. I got a couple of answers to that - some on facebook, others on here - along the lines of "of course we would be reconciled, of course that is the better thing to do, of course that is the thing Jesus teaches us to do".

Now another question.

Does God (through Jesus) ask more of us than he would be willing/able to do himself?

We would forgive our children and desire reconciliation with them - even after death if we could. We would not tell them never to come near us again - even after death, if we had the choice. We would never, ever tell them it was too late. Yet we are supposed to believe that God would refuse to even give the option of reconciliation and forgiveness, and would choose to reject them?

The God who is both loving and just.

The God of whom Jesus once said "If you, then, though you are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give good gifts to those who ask him!"

The God who desires all men to be saved.

Are we more loving than God?
Are we more just than God?
Are we more capable of forgiveness than God?
Are we more Christ-like than God?

The post of my uncle's which I referenced yesterday included the following sentence:

[I] am getting more and more frustrated by the God that Rob Bell describes.
He’s just too small.

Is a God who desires and allows reconciliation with us really too small just because, as Bell suggests, he doesn't make death the cut-off point?

Smaller than a god who says "sorry, you're too late"?
Smaller than a god whose justice requires the guilty child to suffer for a while longer (forever?) so as to make them really repent, the fact that they're standing there all repentant not being enough?
Smaller than a god whose never-failing love actually ends at the point of death?
Smaller than a god who demands that we love our enemies, while condemning his to eternal torment?
Or a god who only loves us after we become Christians and thus his children, so that he doesn't care what happens to non-believers? (Yes I have heard that said, altough I doubt that it's a common belief)

You'll notice that I didn't capitalise God in those sentences. That's because I actually think the god they describe is too small. Too small to be the real God, the one portrayed by Christ ("the image of the invisible God"), the one who - rather than inflicting suffering - suffered and suffers for us and with us, the one who breaks down walls rather than creating them, the one who is at work reconciling all things to him. That God is glorious and amazing and his love for everyone is completely beyond my comprehension.

How much do you love your child(ren)?

Let's imagine a family. Two parents, and several children, but we're just interested in one, who we will call Kim Smith (because the child's gender doesn't matter*).

When Kim is about 16, there is an argument. It's really a very big argument, and Kim ends up running away and refusing to see Mr and Mrs Smith for a very long time. Let's say 5 years. Then Kim realises, somehow, perhaps through one of the other children or a family friend, that it was actually all a misunderstanding, and returns to the family seeking reconciliation.

Now imagine you are Mr or Mrs Smith.

Would you refuse to be reconciled to Kim, your child, after 5 years apart?
How about after 10 years?
20? 30? 50? 70? (We're assuming everyone involved is still alive.)

Let's suppose you died and all ended up in heaven. Kim didn't come back to you before your death, but now your child comes looking for you.

"Oh, sorry," you say. "It's too late, you know. You're dead now. You should have come a bit sooner and we could have been reconciled, but now, no sorry, I don't want to ever see you again. After all, I have plenty of other children. Ciao!"

(Would you say that? If not, let's pretend you would for a moment.)

Your spouse, the other Smith parent, disagrees and chooses to be reconciled - and that's ok with you, of course, as long as you don't have to be involved.

Now then.
Which of you two parents, if any, is the bigger person? Why?
Which of you, if any, is the more godly** person? Why?
Which of you, if any, is the more loving person? Why?
Which of you, if any, is the more just person? Why?


I will write more about this next week, but in the meantime, my uncle got me thinking about this, so if you'd like to see how, please check out his blog here.

*If you didn't think "Kim" could be used for either sex, check out Rudyard Kipling's book of the same name. It's an excellent read.

**I'm working with a Christian perspective here, but I'd also be interested to hear your reply based on other belief systems if this scenario works within them.

Five things I love about you

I haven't really blogged about the Engineer before. There have been a lot of posts about fathers this week, as a result of Fathers Day, but we didn't celebrate Fathers Day this year. In fact I don't think we have ever celebrated it. The Engineer isn't much of a one for celebrations - although he did get me a Mothers Day gift - and our country isn't as big on Fathers Day as elsewhere in the world.

However, ABCand123's picnic topic this week is Dads, which gives me an excellent opportunity to remedy all that in one fell swoop. But without photos. The Engineer isn't big on publishing photos of himself. (He's also not big on cheesiness, so the title of this post will make him laugh. Or cringe. But whatever - it is my blog after all).

Top five things that are wonderful about my childrens dad (in chronological order):

1. During both pregnancies he helped out with everything as he possibly could so I could rest - shopping, tidying, cleaning, cooking, taking Froglet out of the way, getting up early with him so I could lie in,... And then he was right beside me for both births. That's at least 17 hours in hospital, plus 8 or so at home. Including an entire labour and birth without pain relief, and another where I was yelling at the midwife for not getting an epidural to me fast enough. He cut the cord for both babies. He gave Froglet his first bath. He was the first to be pooed on, by both his children.

2. He got up with me in the night to burp Froglet, who was the slowest burper ever and also the sickiest, and change his nappy. Every 3 hours. Even during the week. He never complained. Now he also gets up to fetch Nutmeg to me (as I'm deaf in one ear I don't always hear her calling) and helps burp her too. And he never complains.

3. He brings home aircraft and car magazines for Froglet, and spends ages going through them with him and discussing the various planes and vehicles, explaining everything in words a three-year old can understand. Froglet keeps them all in his room, and looks at them by himself too. Sometimes he even explains them to me!

4. In the morning he gets Froglet's breakfast before he goes to work, and reminds him to stay quiet and let Mummy sleep if I am sleeping. Then he comes home at a reasonable time every night - between four and half past five - and no matter how tired he is when he gets home, he always has time and patience for an excited three-year old who wants to jump all over him.

5. He backs me up when it comes to discipline. If Mummy said no, it is no. If he disagrees with something, we can talk about it in private later. I love that, and I think it's good for Froglet to know he can't play us against each other.

Bonus item: (Ok I couldn't stop at 5!): when I feel down, he tells me I'm a good mother. And he makes me feel like I can cope again. That's something every mum needs from the father of her children.