Protective Love

Everyone knows how clumsy I am. Not a year gone by without me being injured. Some years are just mild injuries…not so much more than scratches or bruises but some years are just brutal with me falling head long from an ATV bike onto tumbling rocky trail or plunging my leg into a gutter leaving me with hopeless scratchy bruises or running my thigh into a thick nail in the wall causing me to endure 30+ stitches. My family has to always be prepared for me coming home crying with bandages and tending to my very needs while I’m sick or unable to move.

I’m sure everyone has more than one side of personality including me. You may see me as a respecting and sometimes intimidated child but another side of me is stubbornness and tendency to be disobedient. And because of the latter quality of mine, I’ve been experiencing a lot of regretful pain physically and mentally.

One afternoon last week, I talked to my mom on the phone concerning my middle sister, Mai. She said that she didn’t get to sleep much last night because Mai was crying all night long because of her thumb pain. What happened was she was getting out of her friend’s car. While she was closing the door, she wasn’t minding her fingers (it was probably VERY late because she worked the night shift and she was way too exhausted) that the door kinda snapped shut and her thumb was stuck tight in it. Praise God, her friend didn’t shoot off right away or else she would’ve lost her thumb. I wouldn’t be able to bear such a thought.

My heart was suddenly at my toes. This feeling doesn’t come very often, and when it does, it’s so powerful that it shocks me – when my heart is all melted with compassion, sympathy, concern, shock and pain. When my sister is hurt, I’m hurt. When she’s in pain, I, too, am in pain. I wish it was me being there instead of her. Although I knew it would be excruciating, I wouldn’t mind bearing it if my loved ones were safe. I think mothers go through this everyday. Their hearts break when their kids come running into their arms fumbling through words in tears, retelling them of how they were bullied at school or how their teachers scolded them. I think those mothers would want to jump out and set things straight for their children. But sometimes we can’t do that. As much as we want to protect our loved ones, pain is a part of our human life, unavoidable.

Since the fall of human, there were many parts in history God scolded His beloved sons and daughters due to their stubbornness and disobedience. God, the Father, put up so much with these Israelites because their ways of living were leading them to destruction and death. Mom does the same thing. “Don’t go play after dark!” “You aren’t allowed to play outside tonight. Did you finish your homework?” “It’s your life. Make your own choice…wisely please. I can’t do decide for you but I wish you’d rather not do it.” Always, I did what mom told me not to. Always, I came home with marks on my face, scrapes on my knees, bruises on my legs. Always, mom was there to bandage me up and speak soothing words. Stubbornness and disobedience lead to destruction and death. Yet the Father, with His unfailing love and compassion, puts up with us everyday with patience and lovingkindness.

There were also many other times He allowed His people to go through pain as a process of cleansing and purifying. When I look at mom, I see my God staring straight into my eyes. Once I made a choice, mom respected it be it wise or foolish. Sometimes those decisions were utterly stupid, and she knew it would cause me a great deal of pain. Still, she allowed it. Do you think mom was done with me? Do you think her heart made of stone? Do you think she didn’t cry when I was mourning over my mistake or broken relationship? Of course not! But those things happened so I would learn that I wasn’t the only right one, that my pride would be turned into meekness. God isn’t standing afar off and laughing at our failures or pain. He respects our decision and waits patiently for us to return to Him again. Sometimes intervening right in the middle of our mess means disrupting trust and liberty.

I wonder what He feels when His children are suffering. Is it the same kind of feeling I have for my sister? The feeling of wanting to protect and to save her from evil things. Is that why He decided to come down and bear the pain for us when He could no longer watch from the side? That He would rather carry the weight of pain on His shoulders than to see us crying ourselves to sleep every night? Our pain is His.

His mercy is for all. His compassion fails not. His understanding is beyond the knowledge of this world. So He waits…patiently…lovingly…for His children to run into His arms. He sheds tears when we cry. He is in agony when we suffer. Yet He respects us. We can run to the end of the world, yet He will be there ready to protect us when we are in danger and scoop us up into His arms when we fall. What do we do with our loving Father? Are we rejecting Him? Are we causing Him unnecessary pain when all He offers is love and protection?