Day 23: The Arms of Love

This post is one in a series of posts called “Glimpses of God” which I am writing as part of the Write31Days blog challenge. You can find the other posts here: 31 Glimpses of God Blog Challenge (#write31days)

Yesterday I saw a glimpse of God’s glory in the form of loving arms wrapped around a hurting little boy. This precious chubby cheeked little one has had his world turned upside down. His not quite three year old life has been rocked by the sudden and completely unexpected death of his mommy. People had gathered to say goodbye to a life ended far too early. Adults hugged each other, shed tears together and gathered in a worship center to celebrate her life. However, down the hall her little boy was crying. He doesn’t understand. How could he? How can any of us really?
I went in search of this little one that I am privileged to teach in preschool Bible study. His daddy was concerned that he did not know the people taking care of him. “They are strangers to him,” he said to me with tears in his hurt-filled eyes, “will you check on him for me?”
Oh the feeling of being given a task when you don’t know what to do! I wanted to run down the hall to find this sweet little one. I envisioned picking him up and holding him throughout the time of the service. My arms ached to hold him, to hug him. My voice yearned to tell him he is greatly loved and cherished. My heart longed to reach out to him in some way.
I rounded the corner, ready to move into action, when I saw the object of my mission in the arms of another. His head on her shoulder, his little arms wrapped securely around her neck. This beautiful precious woman was comforting a little boy she didn’t know, but had been divinely appointed to hold that day. She had heard him crying and followed the Father’s prompting to walk into the nursery room where he and his younger sibling were being cared for during the service.
It wasn’t her job, it wasn’t her child, but she allowed herself to be the arms of Jesus to a little boy in desperate need of a comforting reassuring hug. His daddy had been worried about his son’s reaction to a stranger. Yet this stranger, this humble member of our church, was God’s chosen instrument of comfort for his little boy.
Selfishly, I wanted to take him into my arms. I wanted to feel his little arms around my neck. I wanted to comfort myself by comforting him. But that was not what he needed. He needed to feel in control for just a moment. He needed to choose what happened. And so when I offered to take him, and he gave a slight shake of his head, I patted his back, told him I loved him and Jesus loves him, and then I walked back into the room to mourn with the other adults. Walking away was so hard. But I was able to smile knowing that God had orchestrated that moment.
I couldn’t hold the little one, I couldn’t hug him, but I could allow him to feel a tiny bit of control in a time when he has so very little.
Although my arms did not hold him, I saw what it looks like when we are the arms of Jesus. I pray that we all will be sensitive to those moments when we can be the hands and feet of the Savior. There is so much pain and brokenness all around us. Oh, that we might extend our arms to each other and embrace one another with the love of Jesus.
This precious family is hurting. Their pain is deep and raw. Yet, God is with them. He is providing each breath they draw, and hiding them in the shadow of His wings. They are clinging to their Savior and He is holding fast to them.
May we hold each other a little tighter, as we trust Jesus to hold tightly to us.
See you tomorrow,
Jen