Melting Moments

On Saturday I had the opportunity to go with my dear friend, Esther, to a mini women’s retreat called, “Make Space for God.” This is a portion of my reflection from the first session of the day.

But I have stilled and quieted my soul;

like a weaned child with its mother,

like a weaned child is my soul within me.

Psalm 131:2

Noah has been weaned for two months. He no longer needs my physical body for his own physical nourishment. He can now drink from his own Sippy cup and feed himself with his little fingers. Even as a tiny toddler, he is exerting his independence, exercising his own will and wants, and testing his boundaries. But though he wants to adventure and explore new things each day and protests when he doesn’t get his way, still he knows he needs mommy and daddy. Still he clings to me, knows I’m where it’s safe and warm and comforting.

Before naptime and bedtime we rock and sing. Noah melts into me completely. My active, energetic, strong, and wiggly little boy is calm, quiet, peaceful, and still, nestled snuggly in my arms. Usually, he’ll tuck in his arms and curl his small hands in the curve of my neck, just to be that much closer to me, that much more enveloped in my comfort and care. I deeply treasure these moments—these moments of my son surrendering fully to my love.

And so it is with what God desires from us, from me. He has given me the ability, the choice to be loud and busy, to push the boundaries he has set for me. Yes, he enjoys it when in the course of my day I stop and smile at him, ask him a question, have a quick conversation, or check in about this or that. But it’s not unless I stop completely and melt into my Father’s loving arms, surrender fully to his care, that I can really know and enjoy this child-like picture of deep faith and communion with God.