I spent 20 minutes this morning holding my sleeping baby girl (who will be turning 7 months old on Monday). I love those moments. I love staring at her as she helplessly lays in my arms and trusts me to care for her. I love the peace I see across her face. And I can hardly wait until she wakes up and smiles at me as I reach to pick her up.
It is such a special privilege to care for a child.
But as I was staring at my little girl, I couldn’t help but be reminded of God’s love for me, for I too am a vulnerable, weak child who needs the love and care of a Father; THE Father. On my own I can not get out of this world alive. Against the power of Satan I am powerless. In the midst temptations I am not strong enough. But God, our heavenly Father, cares for me; loves me; provides for me and gives me life through Jesus Christ (leave it to this daddy/pastor to get theological while holding a baby).
So as I was slowly rocking Mayah to sleep I was imagining myself cradled in my Father’s arms as He longingly stares at me with such a loving smile. I felt protected, cared for, provided for as a father does for his child. And my hope and prayer is that I will grow up someday to be more like my Father through Jesus Christ. I know I have a long way to go, but our heavenly Father is patient and persistent. And praise be to God for that.