My son is currently learning to crawl. Some days he seems quite keen on the idea and he'll stretch and lunge and push himself up on his knees and really put in effort. Other days he's not so fussed about the whole thing, and he'll happily just sit and watch the world (or his musical ball) roll by.
I spend a lot of my day saying encouraging things and moving his toys just slightly out of reach. I'm so proud when he tries. "Keep going!", seems to be a natural phrase. Along with, "Well done! Who's my clever boy?"
I love that he's trying and I don't expect it him to master crawling overnight. Nor is my love for him dependant on how hard he tries or whether he will ever accomplish it.
This sounds like a ludicrous statement, and yet all too often I treat God as though he were a perpetually disappointed parent. The feeling of guilt when I mess up comes far too readily.
Yes it hurts God when we sin. Yes, he wants to grow in spiritual maturity and make the right decisions. And yes, we should never abuse his grace.
However, God is immensely proud of us. Of our growth and desire to change. And his love for us is not dependant on how much progress we're making spiritually. He's there saying, "Keep going!' and "You're doing brilliantly - daddy is so proud of you!".
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