Running to the Father's arms

After dinner this evening, the children started to clean up the kitchen and I slipped away to the computer to get a little work done. I was copying some things for tomorrow's schoolwork when I heard a loud crash. Immediately following the crash, the sound of little feet could be heard running across the hardwood floor. Lily burst into the room, sobbing. "I broke your kitchen-angel!"

Now, the kitchen angel was a gift to me from David's grandmother. It was a lovely little figurine, given and received with love. But, at that moment, the figurine meant nothing to me. My precious daughter, in her grief, had come running to the one person who could have been disappointed by the breaking of the angel. She also came running to the one person who could relieve her of her own guilt and sadness. I wrapped Lily in my arms. "It's just a thing, Lily. It doesn't matter."

"I'm so sorry, Mommy. I didn't mean to break it."

"I know that, Lily. It was an accident. I love you." I felt Lily relax in my arms, secure in my love for her.

As Lily looked up into my eys, I began to wonder, how often, when I make a mistake, do I do the opposite of what Lily did tonight? How often do I run from the only One who can relieve me of my guilt and sadness? How often do I run from the only One who is perfect in love?

My daughter reminded me of something tonight--the most secure place to run is straight into the Father's arms. No matter what we do wrong, He is always willing to hold us gently, look into our eyes, and tell us that He loves us. May I always run straight into His outstretched arms!