On Your Hip

My baby will be three in a few weeks. She is growing up far too fast for my liking. And so, I tend to cherish each little thing she does in ways I wasn't wise enough perhaps to cherish with my trio (or maybe I was just so sleep-deprived from triplets...).

This morning she woke up a bit grumpy. Mommy and Daddy had to travel this weekend and she isn't quite sure she has forgiven me. So what is usually such a sweet time -- her waking moments -- was a bit rocky today. She fussed. She cried, even. And then she looked at me and said, "I do want to get up. And I want on your hip."

Such a Cate-thing. She likes to be independent -- don't doubt that. The little miss was out of her pajamas and sporting her favorite "Belle" sweatsuit from last year before I could blink today (You know, when those temps drop to 70, we all need a sweatsuit!). But when she wants to be held, she wants to be "on your hip, Mommy."

So today, as I made coffee with that little one situated firmly on my hip, and fixed breakfasts with her in the same place, I couldn't help but think how there are seasons where that needs to be my cry to my Heavenly Father -- and right now happens to be one. So, Lord, just nestle me right on your hip, protected in your arms, keep me and mine from harm and don't set me down until I am on your path, sweet Father.

And thank you, Lord, for the sweet blessings of little ones who teach us more than we ever imagine about you.