My baby (who isn't actually a baby anymore) is a major cuddle-boy. I don't know if it's simply that he's so much more cuddly than all my other children were, or if it's because he's the only child who has been two-years-old without another a new baby in the house. Maybe it's just that I have more time to sit and cuddle him and he knows it. Or maybe God just made him that way because God knew that my baby's mama was going to need her last baby to be a cuddly one.
Whatever the case, my baby is a major lover-boy who needs lots of cuddles to help him function properly.
Every morning as soon as he gets up, he requires several minutes of cuddles to get him going (and since my hubby is usually at the fire station at 7am, this makes our mornings of getting ready for school rather tricky...it's not easy to cuddle a 35 pound two-year-old while making breakfast...many of you know this juggling act too...)
Throughout the day, the boy needs several "recharges" as I call them. He grabs his blankie, holds his arms up to me, and says, "Hug Mama." I sit down, he burrows in with all limbs limp, and we hug for several minutes until he wiggles down and says, "Done hug Mama." It's pretty much awesome.
This morning was a bit extreme though. The boy slept in until 8am, but then could not function until he'd had 45 minutes of cuddle time. 45 minutes!
I had been hoping to make it to a 9AM BodyPump class at my gym and, as embarrassed as I am to admit it, was trying to rush the cuddle time. A few times I tried setting him down and softly telling him it's time to get dressed, time to brush teeth, time for some breakfast, in hopes of getting out of the house sooner. He would not have it, I tell you. I tried singing his favorite Backhoe song to get him going (yes, he requested a backhoe song last week so I made one up.) He just burrowed in deeper and request I sing it again.
Finally at about 8:30, thirty minutes into this cuddle time, I heard God telling me sternly, "Rebecca, quit being selfish. Do not rush this. BodyPump will be here when his baby hugs no longer are."
Okay God. You're right. As always.
So, I settled into the hug fully and gave up on BodyPump. It was divine. Fifteen minutes later he was done. He wiggled down, "All done hug, Mama." We got to the gym for cycling class instead. All was good.
But as he was burrowed into me, I was struck by the unabashed necessity of his recharge time. It inspires me to need recharges like him. To crave recharges like him. The boy cannot function without recharging via mama cuddles. He knows it, he craves it, he demands it, he doesn't rush it, and he doesn't seem to have one other care in the world while he's recharging.
What if I started every single day with that much awareness of my own need to recharge with Jesus? I know I need it. I need Jesus, and I need his Word. I need his guidance and his wisdom and his truth and his grace and his love. Yet all too often I start my days running right out of the gate and I don't take quality time to recharge. Oh, I spend time with my Bible over breakfast (on the days I actually get to sit down and eat breakfast)...but to really lean in, press in, and dive in with every ounce of care I have...that's inspiring. Even though I can technically "function" without recharging first, we all know I'd function so much better if I burrowed into God's word first like my baby burrows into me. Jesus himself said that I can't actually bear fruit if I don't abide in him. I can go through motions, but no fruit will come from it.
But I want fruit to come from my efforts. So then I must abide. Recharge.
According to Google, synonyms of to abide include to keep to, hold to, conform to, adhere to, stick to. I need to adhere myself to Jesus like my baby adheres himself to me.
I want to crave recharge time with Jesus like my baby craves recharge time with me.
Jesus is the perfect example of someone who knew he needed recharge time. We see him recharging with his father frequently when everyone else was still sleeping. And Jesus is God! If Jesus needed recharge time, I'm a fool to ever pass it up myself, thinking I can make it through the day without it.
So today, I'm taking my cues from my two-year-old. If he knows full well that he needs a recharge, I think that's my signal to me that I need a recharge time every morning too. Or several throughout the day. Martin Luther is said to have exclaimed, "I have so much to do that if I didn't spend at least three hours a day in prayer I would never get it all done."
Talk about a recharge.
So that's my prayer. Recharge me Jesus. Recharge my husband. Recharge my friends. Recharge the Church. Help me to know my need for a recharge like my baby knows his need. Help me throw off every other care and every other schedule and every other hindrance so I can actually and fully recharge.
O God, you are my God; earnestly I seek you; my soul thirst for you, as in a dry and weary land where there is no water.