I have a confession of sorts this week. It's kind-of unbelievable, so hang on to your jaw. And if you see me this week- don't laugh.
Sometimes when I come home from work after an arduous day trying to control the behavior of 132 9th graders, I pull up in my driveway hoping to see something at my front door. It could be any number of things: a UPS package; an arrangement of flowers; an envelope with a gift certificate.
And, you guessed it-- that hardly ever, never, materializes.
Then, I find the mailbox key and go check the mail. Once again, I'm not looking for bills or grocery ads, but for something wonderful and amazing: a check for lots of money from nowhere; a letter from my favorite college friend; a contract from a major publisher.
And you guessed it-- nothing is there but bills, credit card applications, and grocery ads.
Then, I sit down at the computer and check my email. Surely I've gotten some special, personal letter from someone in the midst of the thousand pieces of junk mail that deluge my inbox. I delete carefully and more slowly than necessary lest I delete this exceptional email telling me how loved and wonderful I am.
And again-- weight-loss ads and urban-legend-forwards are all I find.
Sometimes I wonder where I get such crazy expectations, though there have been a few surprises over the years that make my optimism somewhat reasonable. Once, the bank sent us the title to our new Suburban because someone had gone into the bank and paid off the loan. Last year, Scott's grandmother sent me flowers when I found out I had dormant TB. Every so often, I get the sweetest emails at work from Scott.
But this constant nagging to know I'm loved and special is unreasonable. Why should there be constant gifts and continuous accolades restating what I already know. I don't need packages or bouquets or emails to say what scripture has already said: "God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us" (Romans 5:8).
Whether my day has been a display of superb performance, or one that has reaffirmed my status as sinner, God has already demonstrated his love for me—Christ died for me. No repeat performance will be granted, so why do I keep asking? I've been given complete forgiveness and eternal life. What else is there?
So tomorrow, when I swing my big, green suburban into the driveway, I'll remember the package is already there.
