Our daughter has started a new habit, altogether peculiar and wonderful. The last few nights I’ve checked on her, she is tucked in snugly, sleeping while hugging a small maroon bible to her chest. We had told her to pick out a few books to accompany her to bed, to enjoy looking, as long as she didn’t get up.

It’s nothing fancy, it’s not even a kids version with lots of cute pictures. It is one of those “$4.99 at the grocery store types”- smooth, maroon plastic, gold “Holy Bible” indented on the cover. Why that book, I wonder? She’s four, and while words amaze her, she is not yet truly reading them. Does the cool of the smooth plastic comfort her? Does she run her little fingers within the indented “Holy Bible,” tracing it because she knows that this is something special?

The image of her clutching the book the way she would a stuffed animal brings great comfort. Not because of anything I’ve or we’ve done. This wasn’t a pat on the back on what a “nice, wholesome Christian household” we are fostering. It is a beautiful affirmation of God’s availability and presence. This is a book that is living and active, by a God that is living and active. God can and does come in, bring comfort, and stay a while, whether we are good at inviting him or not. Daily, while I try and figure out parenting, He is here, in spite of my fears, and mess ups, and best tries that fall short.

Sometimes his Word is a living lullaby, for the big and small, letting us know he is here – an ever present comfort who simply wants to chaperone us to rest.

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