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Who Am I?


  Only a short while ago the Lord's friends gathered around to hear Him
speak of great and wonderful things. The things of God, eternal things. We
hung on every word, savoring it, digesting it. Now, they are gone and I
alone remain, sitting at His feet. Like a delicate fragrance, the sound of
His voice seems to linger in the air. I breath in the essence of His
presence and sigh. It's good that I should be here; I want to stay forever.
For a moment He shuffles in His seat and I fear that my Lord is going to
leave. My heart sinks until I realize He is leaning forward and reaching out
His hands to me.  All at once the child in me comes alive as Jesus lifts me
to His lap and cradles me in His arms. Tears of joy fill my eyes and
overflow, cascading down my cheeks. I weep softly and bury my face in the
folds of His robe as His strong arms close around me.

     Who am I that the Lord should hold me so tenderly? Did He hear my
anguished cry for more of Him? Had He peered into the depths of my heart and
dug through the sin and deeply rooted pride and greed and actually found
some good buried there? Is there any good in me? I am still so slow to
learn, so quick to fall. My reasoning weaves a maze through my mind as I try
to comprehend. As Jesus draws me closer to Himself, a thread of gold enters
the woven maze in my mind and I understand. Jesus holds me not because of my
goodness, but His; not because of my love for Him, but rather, because of
His great love for me. My thoughts become a blur, struggling to grasp what
is unimaginable for the human mind. He is able to do exceedingly and
abundantly more than I think or imagine. My Lord and my God loves me. I
savor this delicious morsel of truth as He gently cradles me
in His strong arms like a dear beloved child, and holds me close to His chest.
A favorite Scripture from Isaiah comes to mind:
 "You are mine, you are precious in my sight and I
love you." I ponder this, these words meant for me as well.

    As I listened to the Savior's heartbeat, He also was listening to mine.
What I couldn't put into words He heard from the cry of my heart. My desire
for Him. My love for Him. My longing to be with Him. And the heartbreaking
sorrow I felt for ever having done anything that put a distance between my
beloved Jesus and I. For a moment He stops rocking me and I can feel His
warm breath on my forehead. He tenderly says, child, look at me. I am
reluctant to look up because I know that my eyes will meet His. What I have
longed for, now suddenly fills me with dread. I fear what He will see in the
face of this unworthy child. His fingers are beneath my chin and He raises
my head until my eyes meet His. What I see is more beautiful than words can
express. In His eyes there is an ocean of love, deeper, wider, and higher
than all the world can contain. His eyes are the color of mercy.
For a moment I feel as if I am
little more than an ant at the foot of the cross, just beginning to
comprehend His love and sacrifice. The King of all the universe is gazing
into my eyes and communicating His love to me.

   Jesus' hand is warm against my face. He cups my cheek and wipes away my
tears with His thumb. God's thumb, wiping away my tears. He holds my face
firmly for a moment and looks deep into my eyes as if to say, this is
important, listen to Me. His eyes seem to plead with me as He speaks. He
wants me to understand and believe it. As His eyes fill with tears, He says,
"This is why I did it; so I could hold you and love you for eternity."


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