Cupping her ruffled bottom in my blue-veined palm—
I tuck Esther under my chin, neck-to-neck, heartbeat to
heartbeat, her chick-soft hair tickling my cheek, our pink flesh and blood throbbing,
mingling with the crimson pulse of living.
My heart fills with loving this daughter, my Only daughter.
I wish this love—fallible Mother love—could fill Esther’s
soul well to the brim, fill it so deep she’d never hurt.
But in this broken and bruised world, Mother love can’t fill
the soul well, can’t give lasting comfort, perfect peace.
My Father’s Only Son is the Only One who fills the soul well:
“As a mother comforts her child, so I will comfort you. . . . [I] will quiet you with [my] love.”*
Esther stirs, lifts head, little fists digging sharp with
fingernails not yet cut. Holding squirming Esther on my knees, I glide on the rocking
chair. Her back arches as balled fists flail. I smile saying, “Hello, my sweet
girl,” and dimpled cheeks smile back as she babbles: “Aaah, waaa. Aaah waaa.” I kiss her downy hair, gently brushing my palm
across her scalp, fingers dipping over the soft spot—the tender spot—where bone
has yet to cover brain.
And I wish Mother Love could cover the tender spots in Esther’s
heart—the rejection and pain that life inevitably brings. But I’ve learned
through dark days of my own:
My Father’s Only Son
is the Only One who covers our tender places.
Esther, still perched on my knee, lets out a quiver-cry, and
I pull her close, snuggle her against my heart. She lays her downy head between
the curve of my cheek, the slope of my neck.
As Esther rests in the earthly comfort of Mother-Love, I
deep-heart pray she comes to know the heavenly Comforter—Jesus.
Only Jesus—God-man born in a stinking manger stall, to a
frail human Mother like me, because he Loved the World!—can fill the soul with
perfect comfort, perfect peace.
As my mentor-Mother once
said to me: “The prayer I pray for my sons and daughter is this: that they have more and more of Jesus, because if they have Jesus, they have everything.”
So this Christmas, and every Christmas, my Mother-prayer is
this: Grace, eternal comfort—Jesus—overflowing in the souls of my children.
Isaiah 9:6
6 For
to us a child is born,
to us a son is given,
and the government will be on his shoulders.
And he will be called
Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God,
Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace
to us a son is given,
and the government will be on his shoulders.
And he will be called
Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God,
Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace
-
*Isaiah 66:13, Zephaniah 3:1
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