I was at a café when something happened that invoked a reaction in me I never expected.
A mother was sitting at a table with her little girl who looked to be about two years old. The toddler was playing on a chair, even though her mom repeatedly told her to sit down and not play on the chair. All of a sudden, the little girl lost her balance and fell on the hard ceramic floor, sharply hitting her tiny head.
I've never seen someone move as fast as this mom did. With lightning-fast agility, she swooped in, kicked the chair out of the way, and scooped her little girl up into her arms. Inspecting her forehead, which instantly had a knot on it, she carressed her daughter's little face and whispered soothing words in her ear.
I’m sitting right there, watching this unfold, and just burst into tears. I couldn’t help it. Hearing the little girl’s sobs made my heart just ache. How many times has that been me? Playing on the chair when I was told not to. And how many times have I cried and cried because I hurt myself?
When we fall, how much faster is He to rush in and scoop us up?
How even more tender and concerned is He when His children hurt themselves, even when we hurt because of our own disobedience? Don’t play on the chair... don’t play on the chair... yet we can’t resist.
We do what we want, and we get hurt, yet still God rushes to our aid, loving us, comforting us.
That is who He is. To believe that a loving Father, who loves us perfectly, would do less than that is to believe a lie about who God is.
When we fall, when we’re hurting, He is near. But here’s the thing: we must allow Him care for us just as the little girl didn’t resist the arms of her mom, but literally fell into them. The little girl does have a bump on her head but is laughing again and barely seems to remember what just happened. What an encouragement to remember, that even the worst hurts will eventually feel better.