Love's Back

 

Little Miss M and I spent a summer morning sharing conversation, the words simple for Miss M is seventeen months old,  and playing with blocks and Mr. Potato Head. After lunch, her glassy-eyed stare and yawns indicated a nap was needed.  Upstairs in the nursery, we said good-night to the toys, turned on the fan, closed the blinds and smothered her with kisses and “Grammy loves you”. With Nuk in her mouth and her fingers stroking her curls, I place her in the crib. Immediately, Miss M stands up lamenting, her plump little arms reaching for me as I walk out the door. 

Miss M sees my back.

Downstairs, I go to work prepping for our dinner, checking email, tidying up and tending to chores. Always with an ear to the monitor, never out of range and never would I leave her for a minute. She bangs her legs on the crib, leans against the rail, flops down, gets up, and laments some more, fighting her much needed rest.  She throws her Nuk overboard and the cries become distressed. I return to the nursery, retrieve the Nuk, kiss her tousled head, tell her I love her and walk out the nursery door.

Miss M sees my back.

Moments later the cries quiet. The monitor shows my grandbaby flat on her belly and at rest.

I’ve been thinking about suffering. How we are forced to endure pain, loss, disappointments and distress. The list of causes long: broken relationships, infertility, death, disease, poverty, racism, hope deferred, a failed business and so many more.  Sufferings as unique as individuals are unique. No need to compare sufferings, thinking some harder than others to bear, because the one enduring just hurts. In our pain we might think God has abandoned us, is punishing us or perhaps, even more depressing, we just aren’t one of the favored ones.

We see God’s back.

As I remember Miss M and me, light shines through a crack in my brokenness and into my enduring heart. God does not turn away from me or our world in all of its distress. When my stomach knots over the pain in my life or yours, I see the image of Miss M at rest, safe in her crib, her Grammy at work and watching over her.  

In my questions, fears and suffering, God invites me to surrender to love and rest. All the while God works and watches over me. We are under God’s blessing and God is at work for me and you.

Two hours later a call sounds from the nursery. I bound up the stairs and see her face turned towards the door expectantly. She sees my face and her arms reach out. Scooping her up with hugs and kisses, we go downstairs.  Her hands point to the door and she says “Buzzzz”. Outside we go to watch the bees drinking nectar from the butterfly bushes and try catching elusive butterflies, wisely escaping a toddler’s hands.

I cannot explain the suffering I see and experience. Still, when the tendrils of despair curl around my soul, this invitation now follows, “Rest, dear one. God is at work in and with you.”