Only Child

My sunday school teacher used to tell us that God loves us (His creations) as if we were his only child(ren), despite the world being made up of billions of people. It was one of those teachings that intrigued me, because it made me feel special, and yet I never found myself fully convinced, because it seemed impossible. It was like the concept of Santa Claus. You find it impossible to believe one man could deliver all the Christmas presents in the world in just one night, but you want to believe in him anyway, just because his existence makes us feel special and desired. As I grew into an adult, the cynicism that creeped in persuaded me that this teaching might just be a feel good tactic aimed at keeping me faithful and obedient.

I'm glad to say reality has bitten cynicism in the ass. As I was talking to Chris yesterday, I caught myself unawares as I told him I loved him as if he were my only child. Several instances, when I'm spending one on one time with baby Elephant, I feel as if he were my only child. Not that I forget one when I'm with the other, but it's as if I'm drawn into their world and am consumed by their presence, their needs, likes and dislikes at that moment.

A dear friend asked me, if having two kids resulted in my love being divided, because in terms of time spent with each one, it certainly feels that way, to all parties involved. However, the intensity and the quality of the emotions are multiplied somewhat. I cannot explain how this is even possible, but it is.


To baby Elephant, I love you as if you were my only child and you are more than good enough for me.

To Chris, you may have arrived second, but I love you as if you were my only child, and you are more than enough for me.

'Nuff said.