As I snuggled with a scared little girl tonight, I almost whispered, "Mommy will always be here for you. I won't let anything bad happen to you." But I didn't, because those are two promises that I can't keep.
Oh, how I wish that I could. I wish I could promise her that when I go on trips, I will always come back to her. I wish I could promise that I won't let bad things happen to her or to me, to be the mommy she wants me to be, calming all fears, soothing all sorrows.
My impotence drives me to point her to the Omnipotent one, the one who makes those promises and who can and will keep them. We both abide in the shadow of the Almighty.
What a grace that God, in all of his God-ish-ness, is for us. That all of the characteristics that make him God - his power, his sovereignty, his omnipresence - is those things for us. Let me say that again: for us. I cannot sleep in two rooms with one sick kid and one scared kid, but God is always with them both. I need to remember this in my exhaustion and my fear, both tonight and always. And they need to learn this, even now when God is often a mere abstraction.
"Jesus loves me, this I know."
"The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not be in want."
Oh, let them learn this now when they are small, to have the faith of a child, so that when they are big they may continue to have faith like a child.
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