It was a typical morning in our house. I was keeping an anxious eye on the clock as I packed lunches and made sure the kids were getting dressed and eating their breakfast. The clock seemed to be speeding up as it got closer to 8:00, and I quickly realized that I would not have time to finish lunches. I explained to the kids that I would take them to school on time, then come home, finish their lunches, and drop them off at the office. One of the boys looked at me and said, "What's the point?" Not certain what he was getting at, and pretty sure "So you can eat!" was not the answer he was looking for, I asked, "What do you mean?" He replied, "What's the point of dropping off our lunches at the office if you're not even going to stay for a hug when I come to pick it up?" His response floored me. I had dropped off other things at the office in the past, and I had always left right away, partially because I thought it would be easier for them if they didn't see me. (Turns out it was mostly because it was easier for me.) I was glad he said something, as I had no idea he'd been carrying this hurt with him. I quickly assured him that I would wait for him so I could give him a hug, and I did.
His question got me thinking. As a mom, I'm prone to my fair share of "What's the point?!" moments. I grumble easily as I do my daily work - it's easy to wonder what the point of cleaning up is when it's all just going to get dirty again. What is the point of trying so hard to pack a lunch one of my guys will actually eat when most of it comes home untouched? What is the point of doing laundry when the one shirt someone can't go to school without is still dirty? What's the point of putting in the extra effort to drop off lunches when the fact that I didn't stay for a hug is all that's remembered? What's the point of any of it when no one seems to notice, let alone show any appreciation? What's the point of showing love when the intended recipient doesn't seem to receive it?
I spent the better part of a day mulling over this last question, and I've been thinking about it off and on ever since. One of our kiddos has a difficult time resting securely in the knowledge of our love. And, to be honest, I grow weary of it. I get tired of pouring out, of making the effort to show love every day when I can't be sure if or how it will be received. The realization of my weakness, of my lack of desire to do the hard work of loving can lead to despair; I'm tempted to give up. What's the point?
But in these moments I am reminded of my relationship with my heavenly Father. How often do I forget that I am loved? How often do I not notice the countless ways He shows up for me, and then wonder why I don't feel Him near? And yet, He never stops loving me. He never gives up. He never writes me off as pointless, as not worth the effort. In His eyes, I am precious. Worthy. Worth dying for. As His love fills me up, I realize I can face another day of pouring out. His example teaches me that love is never wasted, and that the value of love is not in whether it is received or reciprocated. Love is not dependent on results, or on the worthiness of the recipient.
I still have many moments of wondering if it's worth it, if I even have what it takes to keep showing love. It's hard to persist when I don't seem to see any results. Perhaps, though, the results I need to concern myself with are in my own heart. Perhaps it is my willingness to persevere even when it's hard that is the result I should focus on. And perhaps it is when love seems least deserved that it's needed most desperately. As Paul reminds us in Romans 5:8, "God showed his great love for us by sending Christ to die for us while we were still sinners." Turns out love itself is the point.
