My mother knew me before I knew myself. While in utero, she protected and nourished me. If you asked her why she let her body become so deformed, she might say that new life required that kind of sacrifice; that her body was not just her own. When I was finally born, she continued to protect and nourish me, and gave me whatever I asked for. Then she slowly began to add responsibilities.
As I grew she insisted that I begin protecting myself by learning certain rules, like not crossing streets alone. She also required me to feed myself (although she continued to provide the food). Further, she demanded obedience and respect.
She knew me well. With a look she could tell what I was thinking. She watched me eat and knew if I was getting sick. She knew the impulses and tendencies I accepted as normal came from her very being. I could communicate to her through my silence more than some could with a dictionary full of words.
Christ knew me before I knew myself. I learned that He had been protecting and nourishing me even before I met Him. If you asked Him why He let His body become so mangled and deformed for me, He might say that new life required that kind of sacrifice; that His body was not His own. When I was reborn, Christ continued to protect and nourish me, and seemed to give me whatever I asked for. I slowly became aware of my responsibilities.
As I grew He insisted that I learn certain rules to protect myself. Not rules to rob my freedom, but rules to enhance it. He also required me to feed and nourish myself spiritually, although He provided the insight. Further, He demanded obedience and reverence. I had no idea how to revere Him, and so I became a student of His attributes.
He knows me well. He always knows what I am thinking. He has a plan, and I give myself to knowing and following it. He knows that the impulses and tendencies which I accept as normal have the potential to disrupt His plan, but still He gave me both the right to choose and the strength to overcome. I continually re-prioritize my life. I invest myself in His interests, and divest myself of the habits and quirks which do not represent how I feel about Him.