His Look of Love

Jesus, looking at him, loved him . . . // Mark 10:21

It was 2:30 p.m. My toddler was hysterical, having woken up early from his nap courtesy of his little sister who’d boycotted hers all together. What should have been a few moments of respite from the demands of staying home with young kiddos was unraveling into chaos, as was my patience. 

My refusal to give in to the three-year-old’s demand for cookies just added fuel to the fire and I feared there would be no relief until bedtime. 

More demands for cookies. More tears. More screams, now from both kids. Less patience—from all of us.

As much as I wanted to give in to the request for the dessert, I held firm. I was able to recognize the behavior was coming from a place of sheer exhaustion and snack-time hunger, but I also knew (from experience) that giving in wouldn’t solve the problem and the cookie wouldn’t satiate him for long. He would have one after dinner as was discussed earlier and would (hopefully) learn a little patience right alongside his overwhelmed mama.

In today’s Gospel we read that in response to the rich man’s inquiry of what he needed to inherit eternal life, “Jesus, looking at him, loved him,” and told him he must sell his possessions and give to the poor (see Mark 10:17-27). Christ loved this man by instructing him on what he needed to do, even if it wasn’t what he wanted to hear. And when the man went away sad, Jesus didn’t change His mind or make an exception to avoid the discomfort or placate him. 

It’s only now, as a mother, that I am coming to understand how hard that must have been, to see one you love so immensely walk away from that love, unable to recognize that what you’ve asked of him may be hard, but it’s not impossible.

Sister, what is something God is asking of you that feels impossible? Bring that fear to Him, asking questions like the disciples, and trust that He will answer with the assurance that, indeed, “All things are possible for God” (Mark 10:27).