Vomit Hug (Sermon Illustration)
God does not love us based on our performance; he loves us based on our position as his children.
Since Charisse was about six months old, I’ve made it a weekly habit to allow Lucretia to sleep in while I take care of our daughter. I get my daughter out of bed, get her dressed, and take her on a breakfast date.
One particular morning I opened the door to walk into Charisse’s room, and the smell that met me just about knocked me cold. I said out loud, “What in the heck is going on?”
When I walked around the corner and looked into my daughter’s bed, the mysterious smell was a mystery no more— she was sitting in about an inch of vomit. I’m sorry, I know that’s gross. But at least you’re reading about it and didn’t have to be there. You can take my word for it: the sight and smell were absolutely awful.
I stood there for a second or two trying to figure out what to do. Honestly, part of me wanted to scream for my wife to rescue me. (I know, typical man!) However, at that moment, Charisse reached out both arms toward me and simply said, “Daddy.”
Let me ask you a question: how do you think I responded?
Did I yell at her for making such a mess?
Did I tell her to clean up the mess and I’d be back later to see how she’d done?
Did I lecture her for not getting out of bed and hitting the toilet?
No! I immediately picked her up, held her close, and told her everything was going to be all right. Then I put her in the bathtub and cleaned her up. Afterward I cleaned the sheets and her entire bedroom. Why? It’s quite simple— because my love for her is based not on her performance but on her position as my daughter. No mess she could ever make would stop me from loving her.
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