be still.

Olivia was not happy before we left the house. I think she wanted to go and play on our bed (which is her new favorite place to be) because she was clawing at the walls and door casings as I carried her downstairs. We didn't have time for that. She wanted down out of her chair, and she was head-butting me as I carried her to the car. She didn't want her baggie of breakfast. Things were not going as she planned.

I stood there, waiting and hoping she would calm. She grabbed my arms, pulled them around her, and tucked her head into me. I hugged her tightly, hoping the pressure would help. It seemed to. And for 30 seconds, the world melted away. It didn't matter if we were late. It didn't matter that I couldn't find any clothes to fit me this morning. It didn't matter that the world around us was going about the day.

I tell you, friends, there is so much we can learn from those who don't have a voice. My sweet baby girl was distraught, unable to tell me about it, and struggling to calm herself. I made her fit into this "normal" world, because we had places to go. And then, we were still. At peace. Together in an embrace drenched in love. It was what she needed. It was what I needed.

As I held her, and she held me, I thought about how God calls us to be still. He wants us to rely on Him, depend on Him, to give away the worries and trials of this world and find comfort in His love embrace. I stood there this morning, in the dark coldness of the garage, feeling my daughter's chest rise and fall with each breath. Without any words. With only love. As God held us both.