Hold You, Mommy

In the early weeks of our adoption of sweet Zoey Faith (age 3), she wasn't big on affection.  She loved to be held and hugged if we were playing...but she was completely uncomfortable with nurturing affection.  I am pretty sure she was never rocked, cradled, held or lovingly caressed during her time in the orphanage.  Most orphans are not.

Recently, however, after 3 months home, she has become increasingly clingy to mommy.  The hugs and kisses come freely now.  She has tasted the warmth of a mother's embrace.  She has felt the comfort of momma's rocking in the middle of the night.  She has been bathed and lotioned and cuddled before bed.  We have read countless books in the rocking chair (we have both memorized every word of Good Night Moon).  She has received food every time she is hungry.  She has received undivided attention and giggled and played with her very own mommy.  And guess what?  She is hooked!

Zoey cannot get enough mommy these days.  She is everywhere I am...trailing me like a shadow.  If I ask for privacy in the bathroom (how dare I?), she is waiting at the door.  I have nearly tripped over her countless times preparing meals as she is always underfoot.  Literally twenty times a day she will run over, look up at me with those adorable almond-shaped brown eyes, and raise her tiny arms up to be held.  Instead of just picking her up, I stoop down and meet her gaze..."Tell me what you need, sweetheart.  Use words."  Then it comes like music to my ears..."Hold you, mommy."

Obviously, I know what she wants...to be picked up.  But I want her to learn to communicate her needs and desires to me.  I want her to believe that she can trust me with the longings of her broken heart, so that she can begin to truly heal.  No one has ever cared what she wanted.  She was one of many mouths to feed and bodies to clothe.  She was cared for, but she wasn't nurtured.  

The other day, as she reached up to me for the zillionth time, I admit I was exasperated and frustrated.  I just wanted a break...a minute to breathe and just "be" without being crawled on.  Now I know good mothers aren't supposed to feel this way, right?  How many times have we heard from empty-nesters, "Enjoy this stage.  It will be gone before you know it."  Well, in theory that's great; but in reality, I needed a minute!  

As I took several deep breaths and tried to keep it together, the Lord moved in my heart.  All of a sudden, I could see the lesson.  It was as if the fog cleared and I got a clear picture.  What makes me different from every other caregiver my daughter has known is not the meals I cook or the clothes I wash.  It is the love and affection I give to her.  That is what she craves most.  Now that she has gotten a taste, she keeps coming back to me for more.  In my arms she feels, for the first time, cherished and adored.

This is how it should be in our relationship with our heavenly Father, but often we have it backwards.  We seek His hands instead of His heart.  We come to Him demanding answers.  We beg Him to give us what we want.  But do we come to Him just because we have tasted His love and it is so good?  Have we forgotten what it felt like to be orphaned and alone?  Do we take His tender mercies and steadfast love for granted?

He is what we need most.  Not the gifts He gives, just Him - God our Father.  He is the only true nourishment for our weary, broken souls.  He sees all, knows all, and He loves anyway.  Whatever happens, battered and bruised we can reach up our feeble arms to Him and He will graciously meet our gaze.  "Tell me what you need, sweetheart."  He knows the answer, doesn't He?  But, like every mommy, it thrills His heart to hear His child answer, "Hold You, Daddy."  

I believe it blesses our Creator when we desire to just be with Him.  No requests, no agenda, just the desire to be held by the One who knows us best.