A month or so ago, my five-year-old had a few bucks burning a hole in her pocket, and bought herself a jewelry-making kit. And with Mothers’ Day and my birthday back-to-back this past week, I pretty much knew what her gift to me would be. On one occasion I was banned from the toy room, and I heard her exclaim–but in a whisper–“Perfect!”
So it is not exactly symmetrical. It doesn’t go with much in my wardrobe. I’m pretty certain that plastic beaded necklaces are not the hottest fashion trend. But it is perfect. Because she says so.
And I love it. I love it because I love her, and because she loves me. I love it because it reminds me to not take myself so seriously, and that others do not think about me nearly as much as I think about me or as much as I think they think about me.
And it reminds me of the Creator God who calls us His Beloved, although we all, at times, get off balance, unravel and fall apart, feel and act ugly. Because of Jesus, a Holy God can look at me–at all of us–admiringly and whisper with delight, “Perfect.”