Last week, my little sister had her first baby.
It’s a girl.
All dark hair and double chin, the sweetest little face in the tiniest little package.
6 lbs. 9 oz. 19 inches long. Every single part perfect, a gift from the King.
And while I oohed and aahed and shed my tears, while I fell in love over text and Facetime, my head kept singing the same tune. My heart really, over and over.
Oh, how my mother pursues her children.
You see, my mom got the same phone call I did. “I’m being induced. The doctor says it’s time.” And while I cheered and I prayed and I cast my vote for boy or girl, my mother got on a plane. A red-eye flight, across the country, in the middle of the night. A carry on suit case stuffed full of baby clothes, forgotten jeans in the dryer at home, and a fervent desire to be there for her girl.
Oh, what love.
Can you see it? Her daughter needed her, so she went. If there was help to be offered, than she would offer it. If there was love to be given than she would give it.
A mother running after her girl, because that’s what mothers do.
My heart kept singing after a wedding this last weekend. As we crossed the ferry towards home, my phone vibrated with a text from a friend, sharing her joy as she had looked around the dance floor, watching her girlfriends laugh with the men the King had given them. Dancing with abandon. Singing like fools. And each of us women, fools or not, loved, accepted, pursued.
One by one, her girlfriends were discovering the relentless pursuit of a husband for his wife.
And I heard the song again.
All of those men, running after their wives, because that’s what husbands do.
So there it is. Perhaps the closest we get to seeing or experiencing that kind of love on this side of heaven.
The pursuit of a mother.
The pursuit of a husband.
The faintest glimpses of the love of the King who pursued us first. Who pursues us last. Who will pursue us always.
“Father, I want those you have given me to be with me where I am, and to see my glory.”
And that’s the thing, then.
The King wants you to be where He is.
He died to make it so.
And while the pursuits of others may mimic the King’s, they are the faintest echoes of His chase for your heart.
Running after me, running after you, because that’s what the King will always do.
Passionate, relentless, fervent.
So we can be where He is.