Babies, Bottles, and Finding Peace

Last night I babysat for one of my coworkers so that she and her husband could have a rare night off together. Baby Elden is such a beautiful, sweet baby. He smiles easily, looking up at you with his big, blue eyes and long, long lashes. He's curious about everything, particularly the butternut squash on the counter, and I know he's going to love pizza when he can actually eat it (since he strained so hard to reach for the pizza box while I balanced him on one hip and tried to take a bite of my mushroom pizza).

I think one of my favorite parts of watching babies is giving them their bottles. When Elden and I settled into the couch with a warm bottle of milk, his eyes started to close as he drank rather hungrily at first. I watched the way his one hand seemed to want to hold the bottle up and his other hand curled trustingly around my one finger. It was such a heart-melting moment as he got really peaceful.

For some reason, I can't stop thinking about that moment, the picture of him in my arms. Then today, as I was driving to the library, it hit me. That image of Elden is the image of me. I've been seeking the Lord for direction and discernment for the next steps of my life but I've also been holding on to fear and doubt and uncertainty, wondering if I'm hearing him correctly or if I'm crazy. I'm that child, with one hand wrapped around my father's finger and the other grasping to hold everything up and provide myself with what I need. All the while, not realizing or remembering whose arms surround me the whole time. Jesus calls me to not fear, to find deeper levels of faith and trust in him, to know the peace and freedom of not being the sole source of my own wellbeing and my future. That is where the peace is.

All I have seen teaches me to trust the Creator for all I have not seen.  -Ralph Waldo Emerson