As indisputable as it is indescribable

Little Bee is supposed to be sleeping. Instead, he is standing in his crib, pulling puzzles and games down to the floor. From the living room where I am listening there is one loud crash after another. I've already been in once to move the puzzle shelf out of his reach. Instead, he discovered that the game shelf is also accessible. Now dinosaur puzzle pieces are covering his floor and crib, mixed with game cards for Candy Land and phonics flashcards.

I enter his room and catch his look of excitement as he munches on a flashcard. His expression turns to a baby version of guilt at the sight of me, then hope when I lift him from his bed. But when I head to the rocking chair his hope turns to rage and a full blown tantrum.

Was there ever a child who wanted so little sleep? A child who would trade sleep for play or intimacy every single time? From the womb he has turned his back on rest, chasing ever after fun and fellowship.

I am so much larger and stronger than he is, and I continue to hold him while he arches his back and thrashes around. I look at him with compassion and love, crooning "I know you love to play Baby. But you need to get some sleep." He screams and kicks in response.

Until suddenly, he doesn't. After a few minutes his red, angry face is against my chest while he yells and squirms. A few minutes more and his body is lying in my arms, snuggling ever closer, gazing up at me with tired eyes beginning to close.

He knows what he wants but I know what he needs. So often this means we are at cross purposes but I am the one in charge. When I keep him from what he wants I do it in love, receiving his anger and opposition in response.

Yet there is something between us, as indisputable as it is indescribable. Somehow my commitment and care for him, the safety he feels in my arms, and the fondness we have for each other is tangible. He may be angry, but he trusts me and needs me. There are no other arms he would trust like mine, no matter how much play time they offered in trade.

This is exactly how it is between me and The One whose arms are sovereign over all creation. So frequently He does not do what I want, and I do fight back in anger at times. And yet there is something between us. There is a love and a trust, a realization of safety and deep benevolence that no other Arms could ever, ever offer; that I could never leave for any price. And this belief allows me to also lay down my tired fight and rest, acknowledging that His ways, however mysterious or contrary to my own, are best.

He is infinitely greater than I am in every way. Does he hold me in His arms, crooning and singing over me with compassion and love while I insist on taking the long and difficult path to ultimate surrender?

Faith is a funny thing; a flame burning brightly one day, smoldering the next. Yet the ashes have never grown cold and I pray they never will. There is something between us - my tiny, finite self and all that is Greatness and Infinite - and it truly is as indisputable as it is indescribable.