I have smiled more times in the last fifteen months than probably the last ten years of my life combined. It can be something big, like the first time Lucas said, “Da-da” or “Ma-ma” or something small like the first time he recognized light (saying “ight”), figured out the (mostly) child(ren)-proof locks in the house, or began dancing to R&B music.

I think the reason our children make us smile so much is because of the paradox of human relationships. It’s the thing that most of crave more than anything. Yet, it’s the most elusive aspect of life. That is, one would not think that the thing we need the most is the very thing that brings more work, pain, confusion, fear, insecurity and sheer complexity into our lives. But with our children, at least initially, it’s different. The love is total and complete causing us to lavishly give what is needed. This is why mother’s, in many cultures, are so revered, the bond is unique, probably holy.

But the most interesting thing in all of this is that a spark emerges from our belly, travels up to our lips, creating a smile because instinctively we know “If I can love this little one like this, maybe, just maybe, I can love others with a little less calculation. Maybe I don’t have to let the gut-level self preservation that’s been honed for years win any more. Perhaps, this seed of love can become a forest.”

Maybe one of the reasons God gives us children is because they save us from ourselves.