Held Tight

He was so tired. 

Recovering from some rough days. 
Wanting to be close, not alone.

Even in the desire to be held in my arms, he fought against me. 
Crying out, pushing away, wiggling into new positions.

But. 
As his momma, I knew he needed to be held. I felt within me that it was not for his best to let him lay down alone or to let him keep playing with his brother or let him work his way out of my arms. 
I knew what was best for him was to be held close, held tight. And it took patience on my part to put up with the sadness and orneriness and anger and confusion. 

And as I wrapped my arms around his little body and his softest blankets, I held him securely. Without letting go of my motherly grasp. 

And then he suddenly stopped his striving. His crying out ceased, his movements relaxed. His eyes were still open, gazing with peace in his eyes.

And I smiled big. 

Holding time. Lowers defenses, reminds of care and nurturance. Of not being alone.

Then it struck me. 
How God is this way with me. 

When I am in the midst of a struggle, or difficult circumstances, or in the fog of uncertain seasons, or under the burden of depression or anxiety or anger or ugliness of spirit...
I am held close. I may fight the holding. I may not understand why the arms are wrapped around me, not letting me on my way. And yet.
Yet I am absolutely grateful for those arms. For that faithful, unconditional presence in my pain and journey.
And when I allow my pent-up breath to release, my shoulders to let go of the tension, and I can lean back into the strength that is beyond me... peace sprouts up from the dirt, and life can be handled again. Only now with a dependence on those arms, whether I can sense them holding me tight in those moments of fear and confusion, or whether I can believe they are present, even if not so closely felt. 
And it takes patience on HIS part. To put up with my angst, my fighting, my striving. 
But HE knows it is what I need. To be held.

Just like a young child in his mother's arms. 

Without my own little one being fully aware of why he needed his momma, he came to KNOW that it was just what he required, what helped, what soothed, what allowed him to slow and relax and switch into a new understanding... that being held is what enabled him to progress and move into what would meet his every need.

And realizing we are held close, cared for faithfully and lovingly by our God, we can progress into that deeper understanding that our needs are already met. We can rest on those arms, and gently absorb that strength. 
And the lesson of being not alone can gradually become a real truth in our lives. 
And that is beautiful.

Like my baby in the photo above, eventually we can rest. And like my baby, we can each continue to hold tightly with our own grip onto Him. Peaceful rest.

And it all makes Him smile big.

The eternal God is your refuge and dwelling place, 

and underneath are the everlasting arms.

(Deuteronomy 33:27 AMP)

Blessings.
Elizabeth