She was as scruffy as any kid I ever saw. She'd spent the last three hours eating hot dogs, and an ice cream bar for dinner, then played in the sand, sat on the sidewalk, then threw rocks into the lake randomly wiping her 'yucky' hands onto her shirt. At some point wipes of dirt and sand had gotten onto her face, smeared slightly by rubbing and drops of water from the lake.
It started to rain and this scruffy, muddy little tyke trudged back down the road, through the grass, and up the hill where, in the rain, she continued to play in the sand and with toys for a bit longer. Then there was one last parting ice cream bar handed out to all the scruffy children besides my own and they all sat outside slurping them down while we watched it rain.
And it was as I smoothed her wet hair down I knew then that I loved her. I was in love. Not the general love I had for her when she first arrived, but the deep soul-reaching love that changes everything. And the responsibilities I have concerning her nearly made my knees buckle. From that moment on our relationship has seemed almost brand new. I love her. She's not mine to love, and she might go away at any moment or stay 2 years I don't know. But I love her. And from that soggy moment on, I knew I'd never be the same.
I believe in my sidebar profile I talk about how amazing Gods love is in that "while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us."
And it made me wonder if love is drawn more by imperfection, rather than perfection.
We're children, with little to offer except love, obedience, and random acts of maturity and goodness that make the Fathers heart swell. Our smiles and enjoyment delight Him. He is easy to please.
It's the only explanation of why God loves us.