Every moment isn’t meant to be shared. And some moments are criminally unshared.

This moment is one of those two.



Before light.

I hear footsteps. I look up. Jude. Walks to me as I sit on the couch.

He is quite awake. I pull him up into my lap and ask him why he is awake.

He responds that he just wanted to come see me.

He asks if we can tell each other jokes… A common practice in our house… Not really jokes, but imperfectly matched things (i.e., Elephant in the peanut butter).

I ask him if he had a bad dream. He says no, then asks me if I have had a bad dream. Touché. I say no.

I ask him again why he is awake. He repeats that he just wants to be with me.

I accept the reasoning as he sits there in my lap. He fits perfectly. Balled up. Clutching me. My chin on the top of his head.

We sit. Eyes open. Staring into today’s possibilities.

He trusts me. I intend him no harm. Only love.

What he doesn’t realize is that, in these fleeting few moments, he has taught me what it means to seek and rest in the perfect Father’s love.

2 thoughts on “I Just Want To Sit With You”

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