Since becoming a mom, I have felt emotionally distant from God. Whether from the sheer exhaustion of that first year of my child’s life or from simply settling into a less emotional faith, I’m not sure. So this morning as I sat down on the couch with my book, I prayed that God would simply meet me.
As I read through the one page devotional, I felt the sensation of tiny car wheels rolling up and down my legs and I looked down to see my 19-month old deeply concentrating on maneuvering his toy car on its makeshift track. This is one of those \moments that epitomizes motherhood, when even your body is the playground of your little one. And even though I often times weary of a lack of moments alone, simply to take a shower, exercise (or pee for goodness sake), I love when he drives his cars over my legs or arms.
Today as I looked down, I delighted in his concentration but even more I delighted in what it means. It means my child is so comfortable, familiar, and free with me that he doesn’t hesitate to make my arms and legs into a race track. As I looked down with sheer joy, I thought of how God must look at me not as an interruption, but with pure delight.