I remember. She was small, innocent, her skin was so white. It hadn't been touched by the sun. The pink of her newly formed organs nearly showed. She was precious.
God is merciful.
I held her gently. I knew she didn't have the muscle to support her neck. I supported her where she was weak. I carried her, the one unable to do more than move her little limbs.
God is refuge.
I pulled her close. I sang to her. Not just any songs, but the most special songs I had in reserve. I sang songs of her future, of her beauty and of her worth. I sang songs that tried to imply, "Mommy is here and I will never leave you." I fed her the milk that would continue to offer her life. I wanted her to drink it all in. I stroked her cheek. I carried her close, like the greatest treasure ever. I wanted her near.
God is tender.
We have a lot of names for God, we think of who he is in many capacities, but rarely do we consider him tender.
When we can't walk, God carries us.
When we have no life, he feeds us.
Wherever we are, he sings over us.
Not just any song, but a song of complete love, a song of our own story - with him.
Where are weak, he presses nourishment into our heart.
Where we want more, he feeds us his best.
Where we are broken, he pulls us close.
His touch is all we need, to need nothing more - to be content.
But we were gentle among you,
like a nursing mother taking care of her own children. 1Thess. 2:17
If man should have the capacity to be tender like a mother,
how much more does God hold that same capacity?
God is tender. Have you ever opened your heart to let him love you this way?
Have you ever looked to see how the "God of all comfort" (2 Cor. 1:3) wants to reach out to the helplessness of you - to bless you?
Perhaps, today, you need to fall back into the arms of the Savior. Perhaps you need to know he is a God who holds you, who gently touches you, who sings over you with the most precious words of passion. Perhaps you need to know that he is not a God that will drop you. He is not a God who will hide out in the room with the TV on. He is not a God that should forget to clothe and feed you. He is not a God that should let you get ill and not care for you.
He is at your bedside, he is at your table, he is in your heart. He will not stand to do anything less than to hold you in his arms. He doesn't hold you at an arms distance, he pulls you close.
Have you envisioned this? Have you let it sink in that God, the God of every miraculous and all-powerful quality, loves you like this?
Like a shepherd, he cares for his flock, gathering the lambs in his arms,
Hugging them as he carries them, leading the nursing ewes to good pasture. Is. 40:11
The God of passion and compassion is pursuing and adoring your heart.