My house had been quiet for an hour when my baby started crying in his crib. After a full day of parenting and cleaning and cooking and laundry and bathing children and reading books and assembling puzzles and coaching homework and disputing arguments, I was enjoying my peace at the end of a day.
But then my baby cried for me all the harder. I know that usually means he simply needs some cuddles. It's like he knows that by this time the house is quiet and his siblings are asleep and he gets full attention.
I pick him up and he clings to me. Burrows into my chest. He's big in my arms. Not really a baby anymore. 18 months already. But he's MY baby. We sit in our favorite chair and he is immediately asleep on me, burrowing in and heavy with sleep. I sing all my old campfire songs as he sleeps and burrows and breathes deep.
All he needed was some burrowing time. As he burrowed into me, and I soaked it all in, God whispered to me about burrowing.
To burrow means to make a hole or a tunnel for use as a dwelling place. Just as a baby burrows into a mama's chest and dwells there for sleep, so ought I burrow into God's love and dwell there.
His love is deep and high and wide and long. It calls for us to burrow in. Explore the depths and heights of his love by digging in and dwelling there.
And it's his delight when I call to him, not because I need anything from him (although He loves to pour blessings upon us too), but because I simply need him. His attention, His face to shine upon me, His voice to comfort me, His strength to power me, His arms to hold me, His grace to save me, His wisdom to counsel me, His love to cover me.
He isn't tired at the end of his day (his day never ends), and he certainly doesn't selfishly crave alone time like I do.
He wants to hold me. He wants to hold you. He wants to comfort us with his love. He wants us to nestle in close and burrow in his everlasting love. He wants us, no matter how big and strong and self-sufficient we might be, to have the attitude of that small child who burrows into his mama without pride or ego or reputation or busy-ness hindering him.
That's why he told us to become like little children. So that we would know that we need him.
So we would burrow.
The Lord your God is in your midst,