And I Come

An enchanting Spring breeze waves at us through the bobbing window blind strings as we enjoy the evening city noises in our living room. Joy is sitting in the corner midst a pile of toys she's managed to tumble from the toy basket in all her babyish curiosity. “It never ceases to amaze me how she can sit there enjoying her toys for so long!” The thinker-me says to the writer-me, as my aqua blue pen scrawls line after welcoming line in my beloved diary.

“Aaaa!” I glance up. Clearly, the attention of my daughter has suddenly turned fully upon me and the distance between her and I. “Aaaaaaa!” The communication is more insistent this time. Like mommas specialize in doing, I interpret “Aaaaaa” as a perfectly eloquent way of saying, “Mama, I’m done with my toys, and I’m longing for you and you alone, please, Mama!” 

Laying aside my notebook and pen, I stretch my mama arms in her direction. “Come to Mama!” Her eyes light up with eager expectation, her body rocking her forwards onto her hands and knees. But she can go no farther. Stuck between the sitting and crawling stage, she has the will to go and part of the ability, but so far the best of her efforts always end with a collapse onto the softness of her belly. Heaving a gigantic baby sigh, she pleads longingly once again, “Aaaah! Ggaaaa!” Her large blue eyes fill with all the depths of emotion which a seven month old can contain, and stick their gaze to me like superglue. “Come to Mama!” I beckon, giving her an opportunity to exercise her crawling skills. 

Suddenly however, my mother-heart explodes with longing to cuddle my child. Jumping up, I descend to where she sits, her arms outstretched towards me. “Come to Mama!” 

Now close enough that it's actually possible for her baby-leg-surges to propel her into my lap, she comes to me with all the love she can possibly contain.

Rocking her gently in my arms, a beautiful picture develops in my mind, like a Polaroid instant print, except that it's a motion picture. Full of color, feeling, and life.

I am that tiny girl sitting in the corner, longing for the presence of my Abba. Feeling lonely and sad, I am missing Him. I am tired, oh so tired; such as only life knows how to make a human being. I am longing for closeness, for comfort, for Him. When I turn my face towards Him, I hear Him calling gently: “Come! Come to Abba!” Calling with anticipation: “You, sweetie, who are so weary and burdened; I will give you rest! Come sit in my lap!” 

My legs feel like they are stuck to the floor like cheese sticks to pizza. I feel unsure. The distance seems insurmountable. I want to come, but feel somehow that I can’t. Suddenly, my Father descends, bounding down to meet me right where I am. And I can come. I do come. Just as I am. The distance between us which befuddled me, He takes right in stride. He gives me the desire to come, He calls me to come, and He makes it possible to come. He delights to see me leap forwards to Him with the biggest little leap I can do. He is delighted with all of my love.

Rocking my daughter in my lap, her soft head buried into my chest, the beautiful picture comes alive in my being. 

And He comes...and I come.