Unconditionally

I had a plan.

Knowing that my husband would be gone for more than two weeks this December, I had lists and ideas and great hopes for the gift I would give my husband for Christmas: a clean house.

Aside from a few near occasions of sin that surround trying to accomplish this goal as a single parent of 6 children, and some actual occasions (thank you, Jesus, for the Sacrament of Reconciliation!), I accomplished my goal. I rid my home of 50+ totes of clutter and trash and clothes and shoes that we'd been holding on to over the course of 6 children and 14 nieces and nephews who have been sharing clothes. Clean at last! Even the garage got a "scrubbing" before my darling husband returned.

He returned after a 14 hour drive and was very patient and kind as the girls excitedly showed him around our now-orderly (and in some places, newly-painted) home. It was about an hour in when my exhausted husband off-handedly noted behind me as I was cleaning up the dinner dishes: "Looks like we're back to filling the junk drawer up with junk."

I was heartbroken. I brooded for a while over this slight, and tried not to be angry at him for noticing "the one thing I didn't get to,"

I thought for a long while about why this bothered me so much in that moment. I already know that my husband does not love me because I am such a stellar housekeeper. He loves me for me, praise God, and he tolerates my tornado tendencies. He does his best to love me unconditionally, even if he gets frustrated with me sometimes for my faults. Usually I am happy with being loved unconditionally because I know that I could never earn his love. This time, though, I really wanted to be loved for what I had done because I thought it was perfect... Except I can never be perfect.

The best part of me didn't do all that hard work because I wanted my husband to be happy with me, but because I wanted him to be happy. Period. I have to be content with being loved for who I am, not for what I do, even when what I do seems pretty great to me.

As I was headed to early morning adoration last Friday, I began to understand that if I am not careful, I do this same thing with God. I sometimes try to earn His love by the good things I do, and I am heartbroken when I fail.

Just like with my husband, I could never earn God's conditional love. He knows me too well. I can, however, bloom and grow and produce great fruit in the freedom of knowing the God loves me unconditionally. He doesn't need me to be perfect, he just needs me to remain with Him.

As I look in the eyes of baby Jesus this Christmas, I pray that He will teach me to love Him and others the way that He loves me.

He comes as such a helpless baby. He didn't come on Christmas Night with miracles and power, He came tiny hands and trusting eyes.

In the baby Jesus, we can love our God not because He gives us all the things on our Christmas list this year, but because He gives Himself. And so I ask for the grace this Christmas to give the Him myself in return.

Unconditionally.