I remember when our children were toddlers. I often pulled them into my lap to snuggle with them, to hold them to myself. To smell their hair, to feel them breathe against my chest. Sometimes, though, they didn't want to stay in my lap. They wanted to get down too quickly and play. And I, very reluctantly, let them go.
I have discovered what is for me a new way of prayer. Remembering how disappointed I felt when my children squirmed in my arms, I quiet my mind as best I can and, in my mind's eye, see myself crawling into my heavenly Father's lap . . . my Daddy. When I start to ask Him things, to pray for people, I hear Him tell me, "Hush. Just sit here and be still." And I quiet myself again.
And I just sit. For the first time in more than 35 years of praying, I just sit with Him. Quietly.
I can almost feel Him smelling my hair and listening to me breathe.