I leaned in through the car door and helped buckle her in. For some reason the thought flashed through my mind that maybe soon she could probably learn to do this like most other 5 year old children.
If I didn’t know better.. she could have read my mind.
“Mommy? Having a Mommy is comfortable.” (Actually, she says it, Comfertasul– and gosh, is it so cute.)
“Comfortable? What do you mean?” I ask.
“Mommies are comfortable. They do things for you when your hands are small and you can’t do things as good.” She cheerily explained.
I smiled. Kissed her forehead and closed the door. As I walked around to my side of the car I thought about it. I want to be comforting, sure. But I don’t usually think about being “comfortable.” Maybe she meant comforting?
But she didn’t. She meant comfortable. She was struggling with the seatbelt when I opened the door, and then she looked up, saw me and sort of sighed and sat back. As if to say, “Oh good. you’re here. I don’t have to struggle anymore.”
She knew I was close, and I knew just what to do. Such trust. Such sweet FAITH. Such belief that I will do what I say I will do.
As for me? I need reminding that God will do what He says He will do. I need reminding of WHO He is. Not so my obstacles can magically disappear, leaving only ease and comfort in their place… but so that I give Glory to the One who is so worthy of my trust.
It’s humbling to have the faith and trust of a cherished tiny soul. It’s daunting when you know how extremely human you are. It’s exhausting when you just need a little “breathing room.” It’s just A LOT sometimes.
But in the leaning on HIM as they forever lean on us, we draw closer. Nor for comforts’ sake. But for closeness’ sake alone.
Draw Me Nearer, Lord.





























Pixie Dust!












