This young mother sits across from me, her little one nestled in her arms, warm under an orange blanket that envelops them both.
Her chest rises and falls with her breath, her boy’s small body rising and falling in rhythm with hers.
She is his fortress, hidden underneath her wings, and all tucked in, safe and secure, by her love.
I need a momma like that right now. Someone to tuck me in. Someone whose heartbeat I can feel, whose chest rises and falls with mine, whose arms are a secure fortress around me.
The words of Psalm 46 pour over my head like oil, running down to heal every crevice and crack in my heart and pull me in, pull me close to the Mighty Fortress that is my God:
God is my refuge and strength,
A very present help in trouble.
Therefore I will not fear,
Though the earth should give way,
And though the mountains fall into the heart
of the sea.
Though its waters roar and foam,
Though the mountains quake at its swelling pride.
In a world where all around me is crumbling, including at times my very own heart, in a week when I have had to hold it all together, here is the one place where I can finally fall apart and let it all go. Into the rising and falling chest, the tender heart, and the safe and secure arms of the Mighty Fortress who is my God.
Whatever kind of week you have had, however glorious, however hard, however fulfilling, however disappointing, however uplifting, however crushing, however rejoicing, however perplexing…rest. Just like that little boy. And run to the Mighty Fortress who is your God.