
One of my favorite memories of our three from the days when they were still little is that of them wrapped in my arms … not sleeping, not even giggling … just laying in my arms, comfortable, as if they and I were appendages of each other. It felt natural, comfortable, content. It also felt something else …
it felt safe
They were me, me with they … as I held them safely and securely in my arms, close to my heart, I felt the safety that I was exuding to them … and it returned to calm me.
If there is anything about the days of little ones I miss, this is one of the top three experiences.
Years ago, it is said that the following story was told in a National Geographic, after a forest fire in Yellowstone National Park.
“A ranger found a bird literally petrified in ashes, perched statuesquely
on the ground at the base of a tree. Somewhat sickened by the eerie sight,
he knocked over the bird with a stick. When he struck it, three tiny
chicks scurried from under their dead mother’s wings. The loving mother,
keenly aware of impending disaster, had carried her offspring to the base
of the tree and had gathered them under her wings, instinctively knowing
that the toxic smoke would rise. She could have flown to safety but had
refused to abandon her babies. When the blaze had arrived and the heat had scorched her small body, the mother had remained steadfast. Because she had been willing to die, that those under the cover of her wings would
live… “
Psalm 91:4, in the Message translation, tells us :
“His huge outstretched arms protect you—
under them you’re perfectly safe;
his arms fend off all harm.”
Leave a Reply