As a mother, I often find myself reflecting upon those moments with my child that that seem to freeze time. Recently I had a moment with my son where nothing else captured my attention more than his tender heart and actions that communicated so much without any word spoken.
The night was like any other. I tucked my son in for the evening and joined my husband on the porch to gather some long awaited conversation from the day. As husband and wife, as well as young parents, we know how easy it is to let those moments of togetherness slip away beneath the craziness of dirty diapers, countless errands, work, and just sheer exhaustion. After sharing our thoughts on all that the day had held, we went into the house only to find that the baby monitor from our son's room was lit up--he was crying. We realized that his leg had somehow woven its leg between the crib bars and was clearly stuck. Dad quickly made his way to the bedroom and fixed the problem, as dads thankfully will often do. He then beautifully reassured our boy with gentle embraces and whispers that promised security and safety as he rested. He was placed back in the crib and turned out the light once more. As he made his way downstairs, all seemed to be okay. My husband's protective hugs and gentle words had soothed our babe. Yet, moments later, the cries began again. This was not typical of him, as he normally would go right back to sleep, and my heart knew that I had to listen to my mother's gut: for some reason, there was still doubt in his mind that he was safe to rest his sweet head, and he needed just one more reminder that all was well.
When I entered his room, he sat there with tears streaming down his baby soft cheeks. I scooped him into my arms and brought him to the rocking chair where he immediately buried his face into my shoulder and snuggled tightly on my chest. I rocked in a steady back and forth rhythm and spoke to him that he was held and that he was safe. It was the next moment that is still vividly etched in my mind. Suddenly, between the rocking motion, he propped himself up off of my chest and looked directly into my eyes. He then brought his lips toward me and gently kissed mine as if to say, "Thank you, Mom, for your snuggles that told me I was secure. I can now rest my head and let the night bring me sweet dreams."
I will not forget this moment. It was just a moment, but it taught me so much about how the Savior does the same for me. When I find myself crying in the night, I know that He will gently rock me and whisper, "All is well." He will never reject me in my fear, nor will He withhold his love from me when I feel so alone and weak. He is always there, ready to scoop me up in His arms and to hold me tight when the night is just too dark to close my eyes. When I need just one more reminder, He is there and will never leave my side.
