One of my favorite things to do with Anna is to walk around the university. The campus itself is gorgeous, but there’s also the park with the creek that attracts beautiful mallards. She points out every one, as well as every dog, child, ball, or brightly colored item. She loves it when we’re the only ones on the path for a few yards and I push the stroller in a zigzag pattern. She loves it when I randomly roll the stroller back so she’s looking directly up at me. She giggles and reaches for me, and I steal a kiss.
I thought the other day, “If God and I were taking a walk, what would it be like?” I realized, almost immediately, that the only reason I can be the kind of parent I am, eliciting as many giggles and cuddles and kisses as possible, is he is that kind of parent. I’m made in his image – I’m his daughter – so we resemble each other. I laugh and snuggle and delight in my daughter because I’m like Abba. And he’s infinitely better at this parenting gig than I am. He gets even more joy from me than I do from Anna. He loves me even more than I love Anna. In fact, Zephaniah 3:17, one of my favorites, even says God dances and sings over me. Over me!
All of a sudden, I felt safe.