Comfort

Ethan came running, his face drooped into the biggest of pouts, tears pushing from his eyes.

"I lost again!" he wailed. "Anna got all of her guys into home, and I didn't get any of mine!" They'd been playing the game Trouble, one of his Christmas presents.

He ran into my arms. I hoisted him up into my lap and encircled my arms around him as he cried.

I wished I could express to him that things weren't as bad as they seemed. But while my perspective may have been different, there was nothing that could have stopped me from giving him that hug.

As he sniffled and rested his head on my shoulder, I wondered if this is how God sees us. I wondered if this is some of what God feels, when we ache and hurt, lacking the vision to see the big picture.

This is what I love -- not just that God sees and knows what we cannot know. That is only part. But also -- that He longs to be a God of comfort, no matter how small or seemingly insignificant our hurt, our pain.

I felt Ethan take a deep breath and sigh. He let it go. We sat a moment longer and I patted the back of his soft fuzzy snowman jammies, thankful for the moment, of simultaneously loving and feeling loved.

"Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort,  who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves receive from God."  -2 Corinthians 1:3-4