And I am convinced that nothing can ever separate us from God’s love. Neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither our fears for today nor our worries about tomorrow. . .   ~Romans 8:38 NLT

“Okay guys, I’m going to get dressed really quickly and then we’re going to get read–” I stopped mid-sentence because I had reached out, placed my hand on the brass doorknob to my bedroom only to find that the doorknob wouldn’t give in either direction and the door was tightly shut.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” I said out loud, to no one in particular. I stared blankly at the white door in front of me, in utter disbelief.   My kids and I had just finished an arts and crafts project leaving us with exactly one hour to get dressed, round up our things and arrive on time to a birthday party that started in exactly two hours.  I had left extra room in the schedule to stop and get a gift on our way to the party. And I was trying to be better about being on time because I’m usually not on time, especially if I’m traveling with the kids, and now one of my beloved children had locked me out of my bedroom derailing my whole timeline, not to mention my sanity.

I looked down to the bottom of the staircase where my two year old grinned up at me. “Mommy, I locked the door!” he proudly exclaimed. In that moment, I felt so much rage, it seemed almost unnatural. He was smiling with that toddler look that I think all toddlers must teach each other–that look that says “I know I wasn’t supposed to do that but I’m so cute and innocent-looking in this moment, you wouldn’t dare unleash the fury that you really feel because you love me, and also did I mention that I’m cute?”  I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.

Fast forward four hours later (and throw in a locksmith, the quickest shower known to man, and scooping up of children, one under each arm), and I am at the party with my kids, having a good time. And no, we did not make it on time. But we weren’t terribly late and there I was pushing that same two year old in a miniature car across the lawn. He was having a blast, which made me smile and I gave him an extra little tickle, because after all, he really is just so cute.

In that moment, I thought about God. I wondered how many times I had locked him out his bedroom, metaphorically speaking, and how many times he had closed his eyes and taken a deep breath. In that moment I silently and quickly thanked him for being a good, good father. He’s a father who loves me, despite my mistakes. And his posture towards me, towards us, is never one of guilt or shaming. Our Father loves us, and there is nothing that we could ever do that would stop him from loving us or wanting the best for us. That kind of love is awesome.

Just think about your child, or your niece or nephew, or even a younger sibling, and how much you love that person, and would do just about anything for him or her. If we’re human and imperfect, how much more amazing is the love that God has for us, his children? We don’t ever have to wonder if God wants to bless us with an amazing life (John 10:10) or use us to help make someone else’s life a little more amazing (Matthew 7:12). Of course he does. He’s a good, good father and we are loved by him.