Read, Write, Love, Repeat

I have a love/hate relationship with incense. Mostly hate. I’ve never been a fan of the smell of pretty much any of it, and since my senses are so amped up because of my chronic illness, I like it even less.

But. The smell of incense in my house can only mean one thing. My daughter is here. Home from college for a short time, spending life with us, doing the daily things like going to Target, making dinner, watching our guilty pleasure shows (no judgment, please). So the scent makes me smile every time I pass her room. She loves the smell and it’s part of her and I crazy love her. So it’s ok. I can embrace it and even miss it when she’s back in California because, as I state before, I love my girl.

As I walked down the hall past her bedroom door this afternoon, on the eve of her return to California, I thought of all the things God puts up with from his children. Specifically from this child, this daughter-with-a-wandering-heart that I am. He may not love some of my quirks, but He can love me through them. He sees past the ways I mess up and welcomes me into His presence. He puts up with the million shades of my imperfection because I’m His and He crazy loves me. He wants me to choose time in His home, just as I want our girl to choose time in our home, and takes me as I am.

What an incredible thing, this unconditional love of parents. Something we don’t fully understand until we have kids of our own. An entire piece of the heart of God that just barely begins to crack open to us when we look into the eyes of these tiny people (and the grown people they become) that we are called to raise, overwhelmed by the unstoppable love that rages in our heart. Well. God’s love for me, for you, is far and above beyond that.

So as I prepare for my girl to (temporarily) go back to her final quarter of her sophomore year, I savor the scent, letting it soak into my heart so I am reminded of her, and so I am reminded of love beyond measure.