To my two year old the world is filled with injustice, technology overload and his overbearing siblings, which he expresses with constant crying and endless whining.
His cry rings through the house, pierces my heart and drenches the hem of my skirt and my shoulder.
There have been many times when I wished the crying would stop, making me cry myself.
But then today, in the midst of all his whining and tears, as I picked him up I was reminded: He trusts me with his tears.
He trusts me to hold him, to wipe his cheeks gently. He puts all his hope in me to help make the world right again. His littleness clingy to me, looking to me for answers, his perfect trust.
It made me think: when was the last time I trusted someone like that with my tears? Surely God is the only one who knows the deepest parts of my soul. It is Him who I look to calm my fears, keep me grounded, to hold me and wipe the tears of my soul away. It is in Him that I trust to help make my world right again or else fill me with peace to accept that my world is all wrong for the moment and that’s okay.
And He trusts in me to honor the trust this little child has put in me. It is an honor, albeit, one I have to work at accepting in the moment when my nerves are fried.
As my child cries…
As I pour my soul to God…
As He holds us both.