The years of skinned knees are a distant memory. I wonder how many “boo-boo’s I’ve kissed through my 23 years of parenting. There’s something about the comfort of a mother that makes it all better.
I remember a time in my life many years ago when I had a boo-boo that needed to be kissed by God. It was unlike any other storm I had faced. With tears streaming down my face I pleaded with His mercy to give me something to hold onto. He spoke tenderly to me. “As a mother comforts her child, I will comfort you.”
As the days moved forward He began to show me in tangible ways how present He was. My daughter kept getting hurt. I would sweep her up in my arms, hold her tight, wipe away her tears until she was comforted. He spoke to my heart. “That’s me with you.” “I’m holding you tight, wiping away your tears.”
He knows when we sit down and when we rise up. Our thoughts are ever before Him. He knows the number of hair on our heads. He wove us together in our mother’s wombs. We are intimately and personally known. I get a small taste of it when I think of my own love for my children.
As mothers we kiss boo-boo’s, sometimes staying up into the wee hours of the night to nurse our children. We sweep them up into our arms to comfort them. As we hold them tight, sometimes we sing softly over them or whisper words of love until their pain is soothed.
I can hear my children’s cries above any other. In a crowd full of people my eye is searching to know where they are. I know their voice. They know mine.
I have carried them close to my heart while forming in my womb. They have felt my heartbeat. They are forever woven into the fiber of my being. They have left their mark on me, now part of me is carried in them. They are the apple of my eye, my greatest treasures on earth.
As I consider my heart towards my children, He invites me to see Him. As a mother comforts her child, so He comforts me. He dances over me with singing. He tenderly carries those who have young. I am the apple of His eye. He is woven into my very being and I am woven into Him.
The Mother heart of God tenderly carries me when life beats down. He sings to me His songs of love. He knows my voice. He hears me when I cry out. He runs to grab me up and kiss away my pain. He listens to me when I want to talk.
There’s a place upon His breast where I can nestle in. It’s a place where the storms around me subside. It is there I hear His heartbeat. I settle in close as the rhythm of His heart soothes me. It is then I realize. I am where I belong.
©copyrighted 2010, Julie L. Todd