Love is Sort of Like ... a Broken Mirror and a Bleeding Ear

Is there someone you love so much that their death would debilitate you, cripple you with grief? What would it be like to choose for that person to die so that someone else could live?

There was a nineteen-month period during which I had an "only begotten son." I can't adequately explain what it's like to be a father with an only son. It's as if your whole focus shifts from yourself and your spouse to this one that is made in your very image. Things that you thought you'd never do or give up for anyone don't seem to matter as much anymore. He's the apple of your eye, the subject of your deepest interest. You get incredible enjoyment just from watching him sleep.

I was shaving when I heard the crash. In that millisecond that it takes to react to a loud noise, a dozen things raced through my mind; the heavy, full-length mirror that was leaning against the wall of our bedroom had stayed there much too long; I should have mounted it to the back of the door as I had intended weeks ago. But even if it fell, it wouldn't have broken on the carpeted floor, would it? Where is Caleb? Should I have been watching him? Where is his mother? Surely our little one year old couldn't have budged that heavy mirror...could he?

Then I heard Caleb's scream. I flew around the corner to see a zillion pieces of broken mirror on the floor, and Caleb laying in the middle of it. Then I saw the blood.

What, then, shall we say in response to this? If God is for us, who can be against us? He who did not spare his own Son, but gave him up for us all-how will he not also, along with him, graciously give us all things? (Romans 8:31-32)

Since I can't fully explain what it's like to be the father of an only son, I know I can't describe seeing that only son's blood for the first time. I guess it's surprising that Caleb had lived a year without bleeding, but that didn't occur to me at the time. The sight of his blood overwhelmed me, and for a split second it paralyzed me.

Then I snatched him up into my arms. Quickly, and with furious gentleness I scanned his little body with my eyes and fingers to assess where he was hurt. Though the mirror had been scattered all around him, the only mark on his body was a small scratch on the inside of his left ear. Amazing-the inside of his ear! A trickle of blood flowed from it, but it was apparently more fear than injury that was bringing his tears. I guess that's what brought my tears too.

I can't read, hear, or even think of John 3:16 anymore without remembering Caleb lying in the middle of that broken mirror. That most familiar Bible verse had become trite to me, but now when I hear it I get a lump in my throat, thinking about what kind of determined, redemptive love could be strong enough to let an only son cry out in pain on a cross.

What kind of love lets an only son bleed?

Do you ever wonder if God loves you very much? Does it feel like he's your friend and generally on your side, but in a distant, general sort of way? Have you stopped recently to think of Jesus' death personally, as on your own behalf? Does contemplating God's great sacrificial love for you today make you want to tell Him something?

You might also take a look at...John 3:16; Romans 5:6-8