She flexes her body, pulls away and cries tears of frustration and discourse. I hold her. I pull her close. She arches her back and throws her head nearly into whiplash. She carries on in her lengthy way of communication. I whisper, "shh...it's okay." Ever so gently, I whisper.
I long for her to rest in my comfort.
The will of her stubborn, nearly 12 month-old, heart and weary mind push comfort far from her.
She must come to a place of exhaustion. She must recognize she has no place to go, but to give in to the arms that are embracing her.
I long for her to loosen her grip and curl into my arms. To lay her head on my shoulder, nuzzle her face into my neck, eyelids too heavy to keep open.
I long for her surrender.
Finally, too tired to fight -
the fight costing her all of her energy - she surrenders. She relaxes her body into mine and finds rest in the comfort of my arms.
Shortly after,
she awakens with the brightest eyes and happiest disposition. She doesn't regret her rest. She doesn't remember her angst. She knows she is in the best of hands. She knows she is loved beyond measure.
She delights in her innocence.
A little later in the day a four-and-a-half year old, high with emotion and volume, screams at her brother over a blanket he is wrapped up in while watching a short afternoon program. I go to her and I offer her a chair in a different room with a couple of devotional books - to offer a moment of rest - to allow her time to calm down.
"No way,
Pose!" She screams.
I know full well that the sooner she surrenders to my will and obeys, the sooner she will feel at rest and be able to join in on the afternoon program
. I know that if she resists me, she will miss out on so much more than either of us had intended.
She senses my calm. She knows I will not back down. She surrenders.
When she returns, her disposition is peaceful. She is willing to go into her room and find a different blanket. She sits and watches the rest of the program.
From the time these children are born, they have to learn to surrender their will to the loving arms and discipline of their parents.
As they grow, in much the same way, they must learn to surrender their will to the loving arms and discipline of their Heavenly Father. We must.
In our surrender, there is peace.
In our surrender, there is rest.
Are you feeling a little whiplashed? Can you hear yourself demanding, as you consider what surrendering might cost you, "No way, Pose (Jose)!
Do you realize that He knows full well that choosing your will over His will for you will cost you so much more than you ever intended?
Will you surrender?
Will you find your rest in His comfort?
Today?
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Join me and link up for Word Filled Wednesday over at Internet Cafe Devotions and at Holy Experience for Walking With Him Wednesdays!