MeMe, Hold You

We had just returned from a weekend trip and had some sad phone messages awaiting us. A friend of ours lost a friend and neighbor in a tragic house fire, another friend lost his sister to cancer, and a family member was having some medical tests run to determine what was causing their health problems.

I rested fairly well that night, despite the burdens that accompanied me to bed. I awoke around 5:30 a.m. and there they were — pressing hard on the door of my mind, asking questions to which I had no answers, and wanting to take center stage for the day.

As I lay there in the quiet darkness of early morning, no light yet to be seen except for the dim glow of the clock on our nightstand, I sighed and thought of all the times throughout my life that I’ve brought the same type of prayers before the Lord, asking Him to comfort someone, or heal a sickness.

Never will I forget the call I received in the middle of the night many years ago letting me know that my older sister had died suddenly at the young age of 36. I was only 30 at the time and was hit with the sad, crippling reality that I’d have to go through the majority of my adult life without her. Or the time my baby was sick with a fever and began having convulsions in the middle of the night. Or the two times my dear husband fell to the floor, turning gray and, while waiting on the ambulance to come, was terrified that I would lose him. And the time when . . . oh, there’s been so many times that you and I could tell about when we’ve gone before the throne of God needing help.

Sometimes you and I have walked quietly, in deep sorrow and tears, into the throne room, while other times we’ve run there with the fear and panic of a 911 call. But this particular morning, as I was pondering all these things, I asked myself if the Lord ever grows weary of my repetitious prayers for basically the same things in life. And the answer came back to my heart and mind with the joyous reminders that, “He never slumbers , nor sleeps (Psalm 121:3), and is the same yesterday, today, and forever!” (Hebrews 13:8)

The sweet spirit of God reminded me that we are to cast our cares upon Him because He cares for us (I Peter 5:7) and never grows weary of our requests. We are to ask, seek, and knock — a continual process. (Matthew 7:7)

Several years ago, before we had any grandchildren of our own, the Lord brought a
precious baby girl into our lives whose family was having some difficulties.

From the moment we first saw her, we fell in love with her and she wrapped herself firmly around our hearts. She was with us often during her first two years of life.

During those two years I was saying things to her like, “Bring it to me,” “Come to me,” etc. So it seemed natural for her to begin calling me “MeMe”. The little girl is now in school and her family is doing well. We don’t see her as much as we did, but when we do, she still hugs her “MeMe”.

The name carried over later to our own little grandson, Landon, who is now 2 1/2 years old and the little love of our lives. And often I say to him, “Come here and let MeMe hold you.”

He has now begun putting words together and when tired, sleepy, sad, or hurt he comes to me with his little arms open wide, waiting for me to pick him up, and says, “MeMe, hold you.”
And each and every time my heart melts as I look into those little eyes and enfold him in my arms, putting kisses on his soft, tender cheeks.

And that’s what happens with the Lord, our Abba (daddy) Father. When we are tired and physically worn out from the journey of life, or our body is wracked with pain, or someone has wounded us with unkind words, or when we’ve lost someone we loved more than life itself, we can softly run to Him as a little child, hold out our arms, look into His loving eyes as His heart melts, and say to Him, “Jesus . . . hold you.”

All material copyright, November 2008