by Erin Weidemann
Despite my best efforts, my baby girl refuses to snuggle with me. I get it. She’s 13 months old, and she’s just figured out that she can fast walk, reach the tops of tables, and open and close doors and drawers. Game on. To her, life just got pretty exciting, and holding still long enough for me to get a cuddle in is just not on her radar.
I’m not asking for much. Hold still for a second so that I can hold you. In my arms. On my lap. Anywhere. In any way. For any amount of time. It doesn’t matter. You don’t let me. Right now, there’s too much going on. There are too many interesting things to explore, too much to find, touch, push, grab, tap, yank, and throw.
You refuse to snuggle. I hate it, but then it happens.
Your head hits the corner of the kitchen table, you misjudge a step and run into a wall, or you lose your balance doing that interesting zombie-walk you do (hands out, weird grunting) and land hard on your bottom. You pause. You look up, and your two confused eyes find me. You stand to your feet, teetering toward me with a quivering lip, those same confused eyes now welling up with tears. You’re searching for love. You’re searching for Mama.
“Rooney,” I say, “Mama hold you.”
I pick you up and sit you in the crook of my right arm. With my left hand, I gently press the side of your head into mine so that our cheeks can touch. “I’ve got you. You’re okay.”
* * *
Isn’t that what happens to us? As women, ours is a world that, at times, can be so loud and shiny and busy that it’s all we can see. We are mesmerized by it. We are consumed by it. How can we hold still when there is so much to do? We go and move and finish something only to immediately start something else. We’ve got agendas, itineraries, plans, and we’ve got things to do. Our days are filled with plenty, with “a lot”, and “too much” never very far away.
And all the while, someone waits for us. He waits quietly, in the shadows of our busy lives. He watches with a careful mind for our protection and a giving heart that allows us the freedom to explore. He waits patiently for us.
Sometimes, we just can’t be bothered to stop, sit still for a second, and be calm and at peace in the grasp of our loving Father. We’re busy doing what we want to do. We work and go and don’t stop to acknowledge Him until something happens. And sometimes, usually when we’re not looking or if we’re too distracted, it does. We’re surprised by something difficult, something scary, or something that seems too big to manage. We lose our balance, and down we go. We hit the ground, and it hurts.
Our pain is real. We look up, see our Father, and slowly stumble toward Him. He lifts us up and pulls us close. We are secure in His loving embrace. We are safe. We are protected, and He holds us tight because we are so very precious to Him.
The truth of this is expressed so beautifully in the song “Hands” by J.J. Heller:
“When my world is shaking, heaven stands. When my heart is breaking, I never leave Your hands.”
And it’s there, with our cheek pressed to His and the pain slowly fading that we hear it. That still, small voice that whispers, “I’ve got you. You’re okay.”
Erin is an enthusiastic and goofy mom to two children, one of them having paws. She is a wife, author, teacher, former D1 college athlete and a five time cancer survivor. Her heart is in Seville, Spain though she calls Encinitas, CA home. In her spare time she enjoys going to the beach with her husband and daughter, coaching softball, and pretending that she can bake. She loves eating, laughing, and volunteering at church teaching Sunday school. She is passionate about teaching girls, especially her own, about the female heroes of the Bible. She is also the Co-Founder alongside her husband of Bible Belles.
