Having been here in Florida all week, I’ve been having a great time getting acquainted with grandchild #11 – Baby Nelson Aaron. So far, at twelve days old, he’s proven to be a mellow little fellow. Coming fifth in his family line-up, he’s going to be raised in a pack of lively siblings and will one day know how to hold his own. But for now, like all newborns, he’s completely helpless.

One of the things he can’t regulate is the flood of love pouring over him from the other children. Each of the baby’s siblings relates to their new little brother in different ways. But one thing they all have in common is wanting to touch him — kisses on the head, pats on the tummy, strokes on the hair, pokes, and taps.

Though Baby Nelson generally bears up well, he does have a limit. “Enough already,” he says, by way of a pinched face. “No more.” It’s then that Linnea puts a halt to any further “loving” touches on easy-going Nellie.

The baby’s objection to those generous touches reminds me of how I sometimes respond to God’s touch. Though he loves me with unfailing love – always and ever – sometimes I object to how it feels.

For example, he might touch me with a sadness of heart for a friend in crisis, coaxing me to get involved. That, in turn, might lead to a broken heart as I get deeper into her situation.

He might withhold a good opportunity I desperately want, even need, because the right timing hasn’t yet come.

He might allow a trial that feels like too much to handle, because he knows I’ll move closer to him as a result, maybe even be a good example of how to endure.

All of these things are motivated solely by his love, coming by way of specifically chosen circumstances, which translates to divine touches. We might say, “How about feeling a divine touch with a few unexpected checks in the mail or euphoria in every relationship?” And sometimes those things do happen. But we usually scrunch up when his touches feel too rough or too abrupt.

C. S. Lewis wrote, “We are not necessarily doubting that God will do the best for us; we are wondering how painful the best will turn out to be.”

But that’s the undercard of God’s true love. He doesn’t want us to doubt that he loves us dearly, but he wants us to also acknowledge that painful experiences can be initiated by his love, too. If we, like Baby Nelson, scrunch up our faces and tell God “enough already,” he’ll continue loving us – always and ever – but might withdraw the perfect chance for us to love him back.

But if we love the Lord, we’ll accept his touches for better or for worse. And in the end, we’ll find out that it all lined up under unfailing love.

Though he brings grief, he will show compassion, so great is his unfailing love. (Lamentations 3:32)