“Are you going to get married someday?” I ask my three-year-old.

She scrunches up two little eyes and a nose in disgust and stomps, “NO!”

“But what if it’s Prince Charming?” I ask, hoping to memory-jog the recent emergence of Prince Charming and Snow White in our video library.

She thinks, relaxes her face and asks, “Is he three?” Apparently an age near hers and a proclivity for watching Strawberry Shortcake top her demand list for a future husband.

However, my older daughter wants to get married. In facial distortions and hand gestures she answers all of my questions.

“Who are you going to marry, sweetheart?” I ask her.

She motions wildly hoping I’ll understand without making her answer with real words.  “Oh, I know.” I tell her, “Garrett, right?”

Her face lights up at the mention of a playmate she’s known since she was 4 months old in the nursery at church.  I want her to tell me her reasons.

“Because we’ve…” and then she uses her hands in an elaborate pantomime of

I

have

no

idea.

Oh no! I hope she’s not saying they’ve KISSED!

Evenly I ask her to explain.  “Because we LOVE EACH OTHER!” she half-whispers, obviously embarrassed by having to talk to me at all about it.

Well, now that we have that settled, I think.

I guess Garrett is her Prince Charming.  Through almost eight-year-old eyes he’s everything she could ever want, most of all the perfect Star Wars conversationalist and Wii opponent.  And that’s okay with me as long as he grows up to love God more than her.

A lot can happen in the next 13 years.

But in reality, Prince Charming is a fake. He’s a tenor-voiced opera singer who waits around(only God knows where)  for Snow White (or Cinderella – two timer?) while she gets chased into the forest by the knife-wielding huntsman, is abandoned in a house with 7 tiny men and falls for the witch’s evil apple.  All by herself. Where is he when the dwarves and forest animals are mourning her death around the glass coffin?

I know, I know. He eventually comes around, kisses her (morning breath) mouth and she wakes up.  All is well, a song is sung and she dances off with a giant diamond on her hand.

It doesn’t happen like that, right?  There are good men.  Amazing men. Men who adore God and serve Him first, treat their wives well and are great fathers.  But even they burp at dinner and leave their jeans in piles around the bedroom.

So how do we prepare our children with high expectations for their future spouses, but at the same time not perpetuate a lie that life will be roses and singing squirrels after they say “I do”?

What do you think?

I just have to give it up that no one is going to love my kid as much as I do.

Not any teacher.

Not a sister.

Not even a grandmother or an aunt.

It’s just that way. I tell my oldest that I love her. And she asks, maybe testing, How much?

To the moon and back at least, Mama?

Yes, to the moon and back.  How about to Pluto and back?

That’s far.  How about to heaven and back, she asks.

(but she doesn’t know that heaven is closer than she knows).

And then I say to her, You won’t understand how much I love you until you have a little girl yourself.  And then you will see just what I mean when I tell you that I love you. Pluto, the moon, heaven…all of it is too close.

God gives a special heart to mothers and fathers.  One that looks past dirty diapers, flu symptoms in the middle of the night and possible H1N1 infection.  This heart doesn’t care about three-year-old morning breath or fingernails so dirty they should be clipped instead of scrubbed.  A parent’s love doesn’t worry about sweaty soccer shin guards or tantrums in the preschool classroom. They kiss the dirt in skinned knees and the picks up pieces of shattered hearts.

Love covers these. And makes up for them.  Love lives in the chasm between selfishness and selflessness.

When kids are loved like this, they are free to run and make mistakes and ask hard questions. They can cry and hurt and open little hearts to be healed.  My girls know that they are loved, they know that they are prized and they know that even if everyone else in life is against them, I will stand up for them. In this kind of love, there is a freedom.

This protect-at-all-cost love is the same that God has for us.

We test Him all the time, How much do you love me?

What if I do this?  Will you still love me?

And He says, Yes.

He looks past our grimy fingernails and our intentional sins.  His love covers our gossip and our hurtful words and the lies we tell.  He doesn’t take it personally when we forget to thank Him or don’t give our lunch to the hungry.

His love for us is like no other.  No husband or earthly mother can love us the same as He does.  His is fierce and strong and does not waver.  He never thinks twice about the cost of loving us, the people that damage one another and so often forget that we need someone to bridge our gaps.

Between our selfishness and selflessness.

Between bitterness and forgiveness.

Between anger and mercy.

His perfect love lives in the chasm for us.

How has God’s love “lived in the chasm” for you lately?