To be loved is to live

Several years ago, I wrote a column titled, "Going about it backwards?" pondering the controversial issue about when life begins.

In it, I argued that it may be as simple as impact, noting that with the confirmation of pregnancy, life is irrevocably changed. Psychologists confirm that whenever a group dynamic changes, either by the addition or the subtraction of one or more members, the group itself and every member in it, including the newest one, changes. After all, each of us brings to every encounter our own unique perspective, our own unique personality, and our own unique peculiarities.

In reviewing the article, I believe it remains a cogent argument for at least one piece of evidence that life has begun, long before it can be seen with the naked eye, or even felt within the confines of the womb.

There is another argument in the offing, although it may prove to be as hard to measure as the impact theory.

In that 2002 article I noted that the confirmation of my pregnancies had an immediate impact, because with each, my life changed.

So, too, did my heart.

Suddenly, I had to make room in it for an entirely new person, unknown and as yet unseen. Would they be gifted with kindness, humor and intelligence? Would their eyes be blue or my favorite, brown? Would they have a thick head of hair? Would they be healthy? Tall? Short? Thin and lanky or chubby? Strong or weak?

None of it mattered. They already had my heart. They already had my love, though they had done nothing to earn it and nothing to deserve it. They lived, and they were loved. It turns out the human heart has more than enough love in it, no matter how many come looking.

At birth, I knew more. Fingers, toes, noses centered on round little faces, mouths perfectly pursed for kisses. I knew more and love grew.

First steps, first words, first temper tantrums, first report cards, a long list of firsts, each one feeding the love born at first thought, increasing it to an indestructible force that even now can overwhelm me with its power.

Evolution has no explanation for this powerful force. Psychology has tried to quantify it, poets have sought to define it, and all of us have longed to know it.

Where then does it come from? Scripture tells us that God is love. (I John 4:16) He, who owns all souls, (Ezekiel 18:4) loves all souls. We've done nothing to earn it and nothing to deserve it, yet, he loves us. And he has, from first thought. Because from first thought, he had already fashioned a way to not only demonstrate his love, but to redeem created man from the pit of sin wherein we were born. One has only to see the cross, and the Son of God upon that cross, to glimpse the indestructible force that is God's love.

And because we were created in love and are sustained in love, and are saved by love, he desires that love be returned.

Bonnie Raitt sings "I can't make you love me if you don't." The songwriter got it right. You can pour out love like rain water, and there is no guarantee that the object of your affection will respond in kind. Above all else, love remains a choice. It is too important to be left to mere emotion, to so-called chemistry, to the whims of men.

And God, the Creator of all things, the One who loves his creation enough to include monarch butterflies, yellow buttercups and soaring eagles in it, is not content to accept manufactured love. Nor is he content with conditional love -- love that is expressed only when our deepest desires du jour are met; be that a new house (that quickly becomes the "old home place"), a new car (that is dented during its first foray into the Walmart parking lot), a new spouse (that is suddenly just like the old one) or even a new job (where, wonder of wonders, they expect some kind of effort in exchange for the paycheck, just like the old job).

The love the world offers is wholly conditional. It is a false imitation, a poor substitute, a fraud draped in flashy costume jewelry.

But God desires, and deserves, a love as intentional and as unconditional as his. A love that stands up under oppression, temptation, suffering and deception.

How can we, mere mortals all, hope to love God like that, to love God as he deserves to be loved?

In the same way that love grew as my children grew, in the same way that it was strengthened with dandelion bouquets and handmade cards, our love for our Father grows as we get to know him, as we spend time in his presence, through prayer and in his word.

He is not floating around out there somewhere, watching this big blue marble spin through space, disconnected and disenchanted. He is in the thick of things and evidence of his presence abounds.

Jesus told his disciples one day, "He that hath seen me hath seen the Father." (John 14:9) God not only can be known, he desires to be known. And he has faithfully promised that any who seek him, will find him. (Jeremiah 29:13) Would you know a love that can move mountains and yet cradle a newborn with the gentlest of embraces? Then look for that love in the One that is love.

"O the depth of the riches both of wisdom and knowledge of God! How unsearchable are his judgments, and his ways past finding out!" Romans 11:33 (KJV)