Sometimes, when you are two years old, life feels overwhelming, and you need a place to rest. Charlie is two years old. A few days ago, when keeping up with his big cousins was too much for him, I lifted him up and held him close. He laid his little head on my shoulder and let his arms and legs dangle—held, resting, wordless, effortless. In a few minutes, he was ready to scamper off to play again.
Sometimes, when you are seventy years old, life feels overwhelming, and you need a place to rest. I am seventy years old, and I spent a long time this morning simply being Charlie—held, resting, wordless, effortless. Now I am ready to scamper again, too.
"God is not only fatherly. God is also mother who lifts her loved child. . . . [T]he child . . . lays its head on the maternal breast." Mechthild of Magdeburg
“Come to Me, all who are weary . . . and you will find a resting place for your souls.” Matthew 11:28-29