Wednesday, June 28, 2017


This afternoon, Kachi was playing on the floor while I held Pascal on the couch. Kachi lost some cars beneath the couch so I got the broom and rescued them. 
I pulled the last car out just in time to see an oblivious Pascal lean too far off the cushion.

I reached out and caught him.

In the face.

He landed on my hand full force, and I scooped him up and cradled him and cooed over him and kissed him. But he looked at me with the most baffled, reproachful expression. To him, I think, he'd just been happily watching Kachi when I suddenly womped him in the face with an open hand. 

My hand, no doubt, was a softer landing than the floor.  But he couldn't understand that I'd saved him from pain - he just felt hurt and betrayed.  He didn't feel loved.  He didn't feel rescued.  But he was.

I feel like God has been saving that lesson for me for a while.

Sudden difficulties or sorrows feel like a smack to the face.
But they're not.

It's love.
It's rescue.

That's the kind of hands He's got.

So maybe I'll remember more easily, next time, that I'm as oblivious as Pascal - and that womp on the face was Him saving me from the floor.

He didn't feel loved.
He didn't feel rescued.
But he was.


No comments:

Post a Comment