Sometimes, very late in the evening, my daughter cries out from her crib. She’s tossed and turned and almost woken herself up. I go into the room and feel around for where she’s at. I pick her up and immediately she’s nestling her head on my shoulder, trying to get back to that deep sweet baby sleep.
She didn’t need a drink, or a diaper or late night snack. It seems to me, that she just wanted to know that someone is there. What is provided to her in the dark and the quiet is a comforting cuddle, and nothing else. This need for reassurance and closeness is born into us. We don’t grow out of it.
I don’t usually cry out in the middle of the night. I do however, throw tantrums and fits. My inner baby seems to be alive and well. In many instances I’m aiming my frustrations where they don’t belong. It’s juvenile, I admit that.
I forget though and fear. Somewhere within, I’m caught momentarily alone. As much as I value independence and self-reliance, I’m afraid of it too. In a flash I can find myself on an island.
God gives us strengths sure, but they are not absolute. We do need each other. We do require a warm embrace from time to time. We do flourish instantly with a text that says ‘I Love You’, from someone dear.
I hope on this windswept snowy night, that your cries out will be heard. I’m blessed that even through my tantrums, I have a warm home to return to. Maybe lil’ JoJo wasn’t fussing as much for her own needs, as for mine. Her calls gave me an excuse to hold her, and hug, and whisper lightly… ‘Daddy Loves You.’
Until next week, enjoy an embrace and hug on each other.