Recognition

It happened just days ago, his little face staring up at mine – searching, wondering and then, there it was – a smile.  Not one of those newborn smiles brought on by gas – but a real one.  He moved his arms frantically, lifted his chin and a small sound escaped from deep within.  A sound that said that all the long nights, the constant nursings – giving of myself to this tiny child have meant something, have created a bond.  He recognizes his momma.  After weeks of cradled closeness, skin-to-skin, drinking in life – he sees me.  His face and voice express joy and contentment, and I can’t help but wonder…..

Is this how we really begin to see God?

Are we born again, pulled close to Him, nursing from his Word – the breath of Life?  When we spend time with Him – inconvenient hours – sharing words in the middle of the night, in the middle of the day – pausing to drink – no, gulp – the sweet milk from our Father.  Is this how we see Him?  Do we recognize Him because we have smelled His essence – our breath has fallen against his chest?  The peaceful breaths of satisfaction, the deep sighs of discontentment, the gasps for air when we face trial – has He felt that breath as we draw near to Him? Do we smile because we know that “no good thing does he withhold from those whose walk is blameless”?  Is our smile like some family pictures – forced and uncomfortable, or is it an innocent expression of joy? Does our body tremble with excitement as we utter a small, frail voice to the God of Creation?  Are we like infant children, resting in His Grace and trusting in Him.

The baby coos and giggles and I memorize the moment – I soak in the way the skin under his eyes wrinkles, his eyes sparkle, his lips – pink and full – curve around a toothless grin. And there they are – the hint of dimples in soft, plush cheeks.  A thought steals into my moment….

Is this how God really sees me?

Does God cradle me in His arms, and memorize my face – the face of His child?  Am I a helpless babe – in need of saving, in need of gracious gifts from my Father?  Does He clothe me and clean up my messes – even the really dirty ones?  Do I scream when I need something and sleep content when I am satisfied?  Is there a world I need protection from – things that lure or injure?  Does God lather my tender heart with lotion to soothe the chafing brought on by imperfect people in an imperfect world?  Does He anxiously await the moment……………..oh, that precious moment………..when we finally look up and see Him?  Really see Him?  The sound of our voice reaches His ears and He recognizes what He has known all along, and what we are just beginning to see…..
We are His.