I treasure the moment you were born. A moment more than a moment. For how can something so beautiful be measured? Not with a calendar. Not with a clock. Your arrival, your birth, was my dream. What rejoicing around me when your first cries sang out bright and loud! The sound of your voice was music unlike any other. The way you move, each gesture—and the ideas, the way your mind formed thoughts . . . and your heart, your beautiful heart! My love, this is what I love most.
You are what I love most.
I remember. I remember you. I remember your laughter, the joy of running, of hiding, of peeking out from behind a tree. You were born in the perfect time, the perfect place—the time and place I chose for you to live, the life I invited you to experience with me.
I have been with you. I have always heard you. I have always seen you. I have never left you. I have never gone away.
And even when things turned—when laughter was hard to find, when joy and hope felt like they were playing hide and seek from you, tucked behind a dark place where you can’t see them, where they can’t be found, know that I have had you. I always have you. You have had nothing to fear. You have nothing now for which you should be ashamed.
You see, there are no surprises with me. There is no timeline with me that you can understand. This life, which can sometimes feel more filled with disappointments than blessings, is one in which I hold your hand; I grasp your face in my own palms; I see your tears, and I capture each one. There is not one emotion you feel, one feeling of joy or disappointment or excitement or pain that I don’t know.
I have you. I have you. This . . . this . . . it’s all going to be okay.
Keep going forward now, daughter. Keep going forward now, son. You are here, your life rich with possibility, with promise. Live this life I’ve given you to live—feeling the pain that comes, enduring the hardships on the way. Each situation an opportunity to test and strengthen your character. You are strong now. I make you strong. No timelines. Say yes to the infinite life you have with Me.
God says, “You are what I love most.” Do you believe that? Do you believe that, in love, He made you? Do you believe that He made you for love? Do you believe that He made you so He would have someone to love? Do you believe that He does indeed love you, despite your feelings, despite your past?
“You are what I love most,” He says.
He says He treasures the moment you were born. He says His love for you is so great, Heaven erupted in celebration at your birth.
And in this moment now, and in every moment when life feels hard, loving Father that He is, He says, “I have you. I have you. It’s all going to be okay.”
When you hear those words, how do you feel?
Can you picture the scene—the rejoicing at your birth, the angels exclaiming, the music playing, God dancing?
It’s a little difficult to imagine, isn’t it?
So, let’s try again. But, this time, let’s consecrate your imagination to God, first. (To consecrate something, just so you know, means setting it apart for God—giving it to Him.) And, this time, let’s ask Him to show you the picture. Let’s ask Him to show you the scene. Let’s ask Him to show you heaven rejoicing over your birth.
Father, I give you my imagination. I turn my mind over to you, and I ask you to show me a picture of your delight, the celebration in heaven the day I was born. I also give you my skepticism—skepticism that you’ll do this. I give you my anxiety about “doing this right.” I give you my fear of not seeing anything, not feeling your presence, not hearing your still, small voice in my heart. For here is what I is true: your Spirit dwells within me. Your Spirit in me can and does originate thoughts in my mind; pictures I see in my mind as I turn to you; words, ideas, feelings, and perceptions. So, help me relax and trust you with my imagination now.
Help me receive you.
Okay. Here we go.
Your mind open, your imagination now unleashed, picture heaven on the day of your birth. Take your time. Let the scene emerge. Take it in. Notice the colors, the movement. Listen to the music. Where does it come from? Enjoy the celebration and glee. How are they expressed?
What is the Father doing? Jesus? Holy Spirit? The angels? What are they doing?
For the next few moments, just stay in this space—this sacred space God has for you.
If your instincts tell you to pull away, don’t. Just stay . . . don’t rush it. Let the picture keep forming in your imagination . . . notice anything new as it emerges. Give yourself time. Look around in this place. Abide in God’s love.
To abide in God’s love, we need to open our hearts and receive his love.
What love, just for you, was he showing you in your scene? And as you leave the scene, and as you re-enter the push and pull of modern life, what details do you think He might want you to remember? What parts of the scene does He want you to never forget?
Here are the promises in 1 John 4:16 : “We have come into an intimate experience with God’s love, and we trust in the love he has for us. God is love! Those who are living in love are living in God, and God lives through them.”
Thank you, Father. Thank you, Jesus. Thank you, Holy Spirit.