One night this week I was busy sewing a whimsical little gift for a certain one-year-old who has a birthday coming up next week (she shall remain anonymous, but her name rhymes with pillow 🙂 I was in need of some girlfriend chit-chat while I sewed, so I took my machine over to my dear friend Liz’s home and we sewed and talked and sewed and talked. Since I was gone, Matt put L to bed. I always have to sneak in and take a peek at her when I get home, sending her I love you’s and kisses in her dreams.
Tuesday night, I crept out of her room and crawled into bed. We fell asleep, but a couple hours later I heard a little whimper coming across the monitor. I cracked her door and saw L standing up in her crib. As usual, she reached her hands out to me as soon as she saw me. I lifted her into my arms and within seconds she was drifting into her dreams again. I snuggled into the rocking chair with her silky hair against my cheek and the sweet sound of her breathing tickling my ear. All she needed was to feel her momma, to know she was there.
As I held my baby girl, a realization washed over me. My heavenly Father must feel the same thing. When I crave His presence, hold my arms out wide and sink into His chest, does He feel my love? Does He know that when I’m hungry, thirsty, needy, lonely, rejected–that He’s the only One I want? Does He know that just His mere presence puts my heart at rest, lets me close my eyes and be still? Be near, Father, be near.