early one morning on our daily commute down 395 to daycare I say to a sleepy Kai
look at that pretty, pretty sky!
He replies
Wow Mommy. Jesus painted.
not "Jesus painted?"
but
Jesus painted (period).
...
it's that child-like faith that daily inspires me to, well, be more like my two-year old.
...
he runs to me, begging me to "kiss his owies."
i know that big goose-egg on his forehead is still throbbing, but he always walks away with a little smile, content with Mommy's healing kisses.
it's in his endless, simple, "thank-you" prayers each night (for everything from carpet to the carwash)
it's in that "one more hug, Mommy" before I walk out the daycare door, and his smile as he watches me drive away, trusting that I will be back for him and his sister after naptime.
it's his chubby little hand reaching for mine once his bedroom light turns off. no fussing. no crying. no flailing.
just reaching.
...
yes, i can learn a lot from my two-year old.
daily, he re-introduces me to a healing, "owie kissing," comforting, faithful, Jesus.
a hand that is always holding. arms that are always open.
it really is that simple.
all i have to do is reach out and hold on.
Because I, your God,
have a firm grip on you and I’m not letting go.
I’m telling you, ‘Don’t panic.
I’m right here to help you.’
have a firm grip on you and I’m not letting go.
I’m telling you, ‘Don’t panic.
I’m right here to help you.’
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