Tender
Sometimes she holds me in the biggest bear hug imaginable and she reminds me so often of animal from the Muppets with hair flying wildly and is all arms and legs. Not a baby in arms but she is 5, this girl child of mine. But other times, she will pause long enough to be still and her breath is sweet and gentle on my face, and one arm curls round my neck in the most tender of embraces. She cradles her other arm tightly round bunny and lodges her thumb firmly in her mouth, and her arm brushes softly against my hair. She loves tenderly as well. What stops a busy mum long enough to know this tender love? Just be still is whispered. Be still. Over and over again that tender refrain to pause long enough. Be still and know that I am God.
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