Bare Feet and His Hand Upon Me

I like nothing better than early mornings and hot, sweet, honeyed coffee. I love sitting at my desk and opening up the conversation with God. One of my best feelings is doing it in my bare feet and pajamas. Why, you ask. Because my spirit knows I’m not hurried, my mind is focused, and I’m excited to begin my day with the Father.

This morning I’m in Mark 10:16. It tells us that Jesus took the children — one by one — in his arms and blessed them with kind, encouraging words, placing his hands on them.

My grandfather Haywood, every morning without fail, would lift me up and sit me beside him on “his” sofa — his throne, no one else ever really sat there if there was another seat in the house. He’d put his arm around my little shoulders and we would read the Bible while Granny cooked us breakfast. My grandfather could be a stern man, but never with me. I knew and was reminded daily that I was safe there. Completely loved. Treasured.

I believe that somewhere in heaven, Jesus does exactly that — all those babies and little children, I believe he still picks them up, places his hands on them, each and every one, and blesses them. JOY, JOY, JOY.

Oh, to be a child of God. For the kingdom of God belongs to such as these.

My prayer for me this morning is to have the eyes and heart of a child. Full of wonder. Innocent. Treasured and loved.

May his hand be upon me.

Love you, Pam