tired explorer

There are few things as disruptive as the cantankerousness of a teething baby.

There are few sounds so pleasantly received as the tiny snores of said baby after he has been wrestled to sleep.

Little explorer in my tired arms, I lingered in the rocking chair long after he finally melted into them.  Too tired to be hurried, I smiled at the spiky flip of his hair, evidence of that angry mood that had finally been soothed away.  Flabby arms, Tylenol, and a few pats on the back had vanquished the evil foe.

A forgotten tear rested in the corner of his eye.  I used my smallest finger to wipe the tiny sadness away.

‘Tis but the beginning of pains, dear one.

Easily I soothe your physical pain, but what of the heart-suffering that this world will bring?  Oh son, our peace in this rocking chair is so brittle. 

His journey has started sweetly, but how far must he travel?  Through what dark and awful valleys?  Which arrows of suffering will pierce his precious body and soul along the way? 

Mere rocking soothed him to sleep, but what of my growing pains, Lord?

Are these beginnings? is it noontime? or might this old sun be setting soon?

I try to imagine life after the dying sun sets and the eternal sun rises. 

A real finish line for trials.  A sweet beginning of untainted eternal joys.  Peace unbreakable.  Pain silenced.  Fear destroyed.  Life abundant.  Life everlasting.

These concepts are so foreign to my experience that they sound like fantasy.  Yet, a foretaste of peace in a rocking chair, a tincture of grace from a chalice- these things make my heart and soul long for the day when God’s work is completed.

I will be the tired explorer, and He will welcome me into His arms.

And then, finally, He will wipe away the last drop of heart-suffering from the corner of my eye.