His saucer-shaped brown eyes are full of wonder and curiosity. At
18 months, he's capable of awkward maneuvering, but vulnerable enough to need
his parent's watchful eye. His roving spirit is tempered by a homing signal which
sends him back to his father's arms between excursions.
He's an absolute delight, and we all adore his toddler wanderings
at Tuesday night prayer meeting.
The other night, he engaged in his usual rambling around the room.
He never seems to tire of the over-sized windows and stacked banquet tables,
nor the ring of chairs which make up our small group. He weaves in and out of
our circle, sometimes allowing his hand to rest on an unfamiliar lap, but
ultimately making his way back to Daddy. His tiny footsteps tap the uncarpeted
floor, on which his sneakers squeak when he occasionally drops down on all
fours.
After a while, he returned to Daddy's seat. Tired of roaming but
not content to sit, he made it known he needed to sway. Dad dutifully scooped
him up and rocked his child until his arms begged for mercy, at which point he
slung the boy around like a backpack ~ the difference being, he would've let
the backpack hang.
He did no such thing with his son.
Gripping the child under his seat (the one nature gave him, that
is), he piggybacked him back and forth for the next 20 minutes. The young
explorer rested one hand on Dad's shoulder and let the other dangle.
Why? Because he had utter confidence in his father's protection.
He didn't have to cling tightly because he knew his father had him, and that no
ill fortune would befall him in that secure position.
“The
eternal God is your refuge, and underneath are the everlasting arms.”
~
Deuteronomy 33:27
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