Babies

Its been a while. And there is always much to say. But today, I say blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort. Blessed are YOU God. We share abundantly with you. In suffering and comfort. And we share abundantly with other believers. And I am rendered speechless by those you bring into my life. By a community group that is really filled with the Word. Just the Word. Not our words. Filled with the Spirit. Doing really beautiful things, reaching people in radical ways because of the Spirit not because of our selves. By a friend who will sit on the floor and whisper prayers over me and not be ashamed or surprised by the depth of my sin, who will plead with the Father KNOWING that Christ is pleading on our behalf.
And by babies. I spent two hours with 8 babies under 1. I learned so much about God. So much about myself. Oh, how unfiltered these little ones are. How they cry when they have a need. How I hide my cry. How I yearn to satisfy my own needs. How ridiculous it would be if a 5 month year old stifled her cry of hunger and attempted to satisfy herself by gnawing on her toys. Yet this is me. I have my Father. How much more am I his child than these little ones are children of other humans? The distinction between a baby and an adult is minuscule, negligible in comparison with the gap between us and God, the One who laid the foundation of the earth, who shut the sea with doors and made clouds its garment and commands the morning and causes the dawn to know its place. I think to how quiet they are when they are being fed, being held, being looked on. How their soft, unspoken contentment speaks volumes and clearly portrays the one who is caring for them. How I tend to run around, relying on myself, trying to speak of the goodness of the Lord, instead of letting my life speak of belonging to Him, delighting in the ways he meets every one of my needs, being quieted and calmed on His shoulder.
I know how to care for these children. Its written into my making. No one ever told me, "when they are crying you pick them up." I knew. No one ever said, "Hold them close, not at arms length." I knew. I show no distinction though they look different-their shapes and facial structures and hair-I would never only love on the "cutest" one. It wouldn't make sense. These babies aren't even my children, and yet I delight in caring for them.

How much more does our Heavenly Father delight in caring for us?

I am the most selfish creature I know. Perhaps because I know myself, my thoughts, my heart, more than I know anyone else's. It doesn't really matter either way. What matters is, I am unbelievably, indescribably sinful, and yet I know and love caring for babies. I will do anything for their peace, joy, comfort. I delight in them. How much greater is God? Who is without sin? Whose love is deeper and wider and longer than mine, infinitely so. He loves us. He is our Comforter.

Lord, make me that child that is not ashamed of how much I need you. Who is willing to be comforted. Willing to be needy. Willing to be broken and dependent and quieted. Let that speak deeper than any words I could give.