Key Concept:
Still doesn’t simply mean motionless; to still something is to silence it. The true presence of Jesus silences our deepest fears, anxieties, and hurts and makes possible reconciliation with God.
Simple Focus:
Movement; putting our faith into motion
Jesus Loves a Wiggler, by Christie Robbins
One early morning during the Advent season of 2019, I heard the familiar steps of my youngest son skip-running towards my bed. I lifted up the covers and he crawled in beside me. I buried my nose in his dirty hair-we had been on Christmas break for several days, and I’m not really sure when he had last bathed-but it smelled distinctly of little boy, and karate, and sweat, and sleep.
While I don’t always love how early my son crawls in bed with me on mornings in which we have nothing to do, I absolutely adore that he still comes to snuggle. I am keenly aware that perhaps the early morning cuddle is drawing to a close, because boys grow older and their mamas aren’t always the first thing they want-and so I don’t complain. I also don’t complain because there are two truths about my son: 1. He does not like to give kisses or be kissed. By anyone, not even his mama. Not on his head, or on his cheek. Not on his hand, or even when he was little bitty, on his tummy. So on these early morning cuddles, I press my face as close as I can to the back of his head and very slowly and subtly try to sneak in a kiss. And every time, he slowly and subtly wipes it off. And sometimes says “Gross.”
2. He is his father’s son-he is in constant motion during the day and at night. He often is making little noises or running here and there and you can hardly catch him to hug him. The other day he was in the back yard with a water gun in 38 degree weather instructing individuals to “Get into Sector 2, NOW!!! IMMEDIATELY!” His imaginary people? aliens? Star Wars characters? would not cooperate, although the threat of imminent danger seemed quite real-and they were doused with water until entering the safety of Sector 2.
So the early morning cuddles are important, life-giving minutes to me. Minutes in which the skinny boy is almost-almost a chubby Baby Tom in my arms. But the skinny boy can not contain his energy, even early in the morning-and I have to remind him to “Be Still!” if he’s going to lay in bed with me-because he kicks and jerks and hurts me, flopping around before I’ve been administered my coffee.
But today, today he was still for a long time. And I spooned him and threw my arm around his bony back onto his tummy. And in the stillness we stayed...until he began to move his arms. Before I could get onto him for fidgeting , I realized he was using sign language to the song “Yes, Jesus Loves Me” over and over again.
Yes, Jesus Loves Me,
Yes Jesus Loves Me,
Yes, Jesus Loves Me,
The Bible tells me so.
The weight of life, of adulthood, of relationships, of the church, of the pandemic, has almost pressed me down lately. I have lost sight of the truth that our God is a God of hope, not despair. I have been trying to reason out adult issues, to make things and circumstances and people make sense. But, I can’t, and they don’t. Today, today...my son reasoned out for me the only thing I really need to know this Advent season. The only thing I need to make sense of this Advent season. The only thing we all need to know or make sense of this Advent season: Jesus loves me. Jesus loves you. Jesus even loves the fools in Sector 2.