His words pierced my heart.
I sat, for just a few spare, stolen moments, in my favorite chair with the best 9-year-old in the world snuggled in my lap. My arms were wrapped tightly around him.
“I love you. I wish we could do this more often.”
And I told him how much I wish we could too…started to talk about how if he’d just do his morning routine like he’s supposed to…and then I caught myself. Don’t let the distractions and perfection get in the way of this moment. Let them go.
So I just sat for a moment, savoring his body melting into mine. Trying to breathe in the moment and memorize it forever. How big he’s getting, but how childlike he still is. How he still loves to hold my hand or curl up in my lap. I know from having my two other, older boys, before long, he won’t fit in my lap. He won’t want to be wrapped in my arms.
And then God placed a thought in my mind. I wish we could have more moments like this. My arms wrapped around you, just being together for a quiet moment. I wish we could do this more often.
Oh how that cut me to the core. So convicting. And so loving. Only my Father can point out such painful truth with such enduring, gentle love. And make it feel like a love song, instead of condemnation. Only He can use the whispers of a child to remind me of all I need to let go, and why. To have quiet moments wrapped in His arms. My soul aches for this…and my To Do list says no. My distractions scream no. My battle with perfection hollers no. But He says YES.
28 “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.” Matthew 11:28
And I know, that in the moment I come to Him, weary and burdened, tired and groggy, joyful and energized, sad and sorrowful, distracted and battling, He will give me rest. And He will wrap His arms around me, and take in the moment. Think of me fondly. And sing His love over me.
And I couldn’t want anything more.