Sales Pitch of a Lifetime

You know those times when your kind, sweet kiddos transform into selfish savages who are constantly at each other’s throats? (No? Is that just us?)

Well, that’s where we are right now.

I’m no stranger to these stages. We tend to undulate into them every so often.

No one cares about anyone else. No one listens. Everyone simply goes wild.

There’s blood. Screaming. Tears. The other day, my son even handed me a fistful of someone’s hair.

But I know this stage is fleeting. So I choose to love my kids anyway, despite their craziness. And I still, somehow, want to give them good things.

So after dinner one night, I decided it would be fun to dish out some dessert. Not based on merit, simply based on my love for them.

As I cleaned the scooper, I smirked and turned to my oldest, who’d had a particularly rough day. “Do you think you should get to have some ice cream?”

Her mouth dropped open and her eyes longingly stared at the utensil in my hand. She hadn’t considered there being a reward that night. One that she might have to miss out on based on her selfishness and disobedience.

She flicked her gaze to me, still pleading, as she laid out every good deed she’d done that day. Granted, most of them were stretched and embellished.

Smiling at her desperate sales pitch, I dipped the scoop into the ice cream. I’d planned all along to give her the special treat. She hadn’t earned it. It was a free gift. One given out of my love for her.

“I love you, kiddo,” I said as I set the bowl of ice cream in front of her at the table. “You can have this treat just because I love you.”

She gushed with thanks, savoring each bite, while the other kids dug in without thought. I imagine the dessert tasted even sweeter to her as it melted on her tongue, knowing that she didn’t deserve one granule of its sugar.

After they went to bed, I checked some news to see what was going on in the world.

And you know those times when your kind, sweet kiddos transform into selfish savages who are constantly at each other’s throats?

Well, that’s where we are right now. As a culture. As a country. As a humanity.

God’s no stranger to these stages. Heck, just take a look at history. We tend to undulate into them every so often.

No one seems to care about anyone else. No one listens. Everyone simply goes wild.

There’s shootings. Suicides. Wars.

But God knows this world is fleeting. So He chooses to love us anyway, despite our craziness. And He still, somehow, wants to give us good gifts.

So after we close our eyes for the last time, He decided it would be fun to dish out some salvation. Simply based on His love for us.

On Judgement Day, I imagine He’ll smirk at me, shining in his radiant splendor. “Do you think you should get to have heaven?”

My mouth might drop open, my gaze longingly fixed on the Almighty. How many days had gone by without me considering the reward that awaited me? One that I might have to miss out on based on my selfishness and disobedience.

Will I flick my gaze to Him and plead my case, laying out every good deed I’d done over the course of my life? Would I stretch and embellish my acts to persuade Him to open the gates for me?

I shake my head, knowing the answer.

God doesn’t need us to sell Him on who we are. He wants us to tell Him who we are in Him.

Loved. Saved. Redeemed.

Through no merit of my own.

“No,” I’d respond, dropping my gaze—and perhaps my entire body—to the ground at His feet. “I don’t think I should get to have Heaven.”

Every virtue I possess. Every good deed attributed to my name. Every act of charity I’ve done. I only attained those with the help of God.

I am the crazy stage. The wildness. The selfishness.

And that deserves no part in heaven.

I depend solely on God’s mercy to enter His Kingdom.

Smiling at my desperate reliance on Him, He might step aside and usher me into utopia. He’d planned all along to give me the special treat. I hadn’t earned it. It was a free gift. One given out of His love for me.

As I set foot inside, I envision myself gushing with eternal thanks. And as I partake in paradise, I imagine it tasting even better, knowing that I didn’t deserve even one granule of its sweetness.