I'm Delightful!

I’m Delightful!

Yesterday, I opened a large, stiff envelope that came in the mail.  Out fell two beautiful 5x7 professional photographs of our only grandson.  For his third birthday pictures, his mom had taken him to a photographer who had dressed him as an adult (albeit small) fireman’s suit, complete with coat, helmet, and a fire hose connected to nothing - much to Gabe’s chagrin. 

As those pictures tumbled out, tears of joy filled my eyes, as I held them and pored over every detail.  In one picture, he sits atop the roll of fire hose, with the full size helmet by his feet, holding onto the red suspenders over his shoulder which held the adult-size pants up all the way to his shoulders.  In the other picture, he is dressed in a very authentic-looking child’s size fireman’s suit, holding the huge nozzle, looking to the sky with the most precious smile on his face as he waits for the water which is not coming out.

As I looked at those pictures, I memorized every detail.  I touched his checks, tried to brush the lock of hair out of his eyes, marveled at how much he had grown, and felt my heart ache for the joy and love I have because of this little, three year old child.  They live hundreds of miles from us, and we only get to see them about four times a year.  I call, send little gifts, and drive for hours to see them, when I can.  Though I take the pictures of both Gabe and his sisters with me wherever I go, (yes, in their 5x7 frames in a totebag), I cannot be a part of their lives as much as I would like because we live in two different states.  Yet, in spite of the fact that they live so much of their lives out of my reach and without thinking about Grammy, they are the apple of my eye.  When I think of them, my heart soars and I melt with love at the joy and delight they bring to me.

One day, recently, I spoke with my daughter-in-law, who sounded a little down in spirits.  I asked if she was okay, and her response was that it had just been one of those days.  It was her birthday, my son had a meeting after work, and the children had been, well, children.  She caught Gabe, in the midst of potty-training, marking his territory in one of the girl’s bedrooms.  Evie had gotten carsick in the back of a car during a violent thunderstorm and had thrown up in a plastic purse in the car.  The baby was running a fever, and Amelia, at the ripe age of 7, had ballet, plus a make-up gymnastics class.  I am sure that, on that particular day, if I had driven three states over, I could have had four children for a bargain price.  And I would have taken them.  They delight my heart, even when they are not delightful.

God loves me in much the same way.  Psalm 18:19 is one of my favorite passages:  He delivered me, because He delighted in me.  For some unfathomable reason called grace, God looked across eternity, saw me, and His great heart of righteousness melted as He chose to love me.  I believe His eyes wept as He looked at my nose, my cheeks, and my heart, and He delighted in me – not because I was delightful, but because of His great love.  Somehow, He was moved to such love that He was willing to allow Jesus to die for me, in order to deliver me.  Amazing!

Though I live in His presence, I don’t dwell with Him, at the moment.  Often, I carry on with my life, failing to think on Him, talk to Him as much as He would like, be influenced by Him as much as He would like... He still delights in me.  If I can love my children and grandchildren like that, in my imperfect way, why would I ever doubt that He chooses to love me like that?  My grandchildren have done nothing more to merit my love than to love me in return and to have a relationship with me.  Four are birth grandchildren and two are adopted grandchildren.  My love for them is the same; I choose to delight in them, though – just as their dads – they are not always delightful.

I am so grateful the verse does not say that He delivered me because I am delightful.  I live with me, and I know very well that there are days and moments when I am anything but delightful.  Yet, the gift of deliverance rolls out of His incomprehensible choice to delight in me.  No one else delights in the pictures of my grandchildren quite like I do.  Oh, they are kind, with appropriate ooh’s and aaah’s.  However, I know it is, for the most part, just tolerant indulgence.  I understand.  The delight I have is because they are mine.  I am so grateful to be His and that He has chosen to delight in me!  Just think!  If you know God through Christ Jesus, you, too, are chosen by Him to receive His delight.  If you don’t know Him, won’t you ask Him for that relationship that comes because He chooses to delight in you?

© 2010 Gerry Sisk

(08/25/10)