Big Hairy Chest.

I was a baby once.  A baby that cried a lot.  I think the doctors told my mom I had colic. For those of you that don’t know the definition of colic…

Colic- your baby will cry a lot because its stomach hurts.  CRY. A LOT. NON-STOP. CRY.

You’re welcome.

I was my mother’s 3^rd child, so I figure she had the hang of the mom thing.  But, then I came along.  I don’t have a memory of this because my brain was small, but she told me the short version.

I would wake up and cry.  I may fall asleep again for a short time and then cry again.  She would try rocking me, putting me in a comfy chair, reading me a book, taking a walk, etc… I was like a crying machine.  Then my dad would walk in the door from work.  My mom would then silently hand me off.

My dad would lie down on the couch, put me on his chest and just sit there with me.  Slowly, my need was met.  My discomfort and pain was eased and I would fall asleep.  I don’t remember what it felt like to have constant stomach pains and cry out for some kind of comfort, and I don’t know why it was my dad’s big, hairy chest that did the job.

This is what I do remember.  I remember getting on the plane a week ago saying goodbye to 10 crazy, brown children that had somehow become my own family.  I remember crying in our living room because my best friend who had been through all of it with me would still be standing there tomorrow without me.  The past year of my life has changed the way I feel, the way I think, and even the way I speak.  God has created something new in me and something new within the walls of that beautiful mess of a house.

As I walk the new, old streets of my life in Tennessee I feel pain.  A deep longing in my heart.  I ask myself over and over what this longing is.  I know I miss the 10 faces that leave at 7:30am for school and return messy and sometimes mischievous at 5pm. I know I miss being dirty and tan.  I know I miss the infinite amount of questions pertaining to strange rashes or coughs or stomach aches at the primary school.  I know I miss my roommates that kept me laughing and were always proclaiming the Lord’s GOODNESS. 

Just like a bald headed baby I am crying for something.  It’s not people or places or daily routine that is going to ease the ache.  It’s my Father.  The Father that has been with me from before I began.  Before the world began in fact.  So with each new, old step I take in my life of being a daughter, a 23 year old, a friend, and a mommy of odd sorts I rest on His chest.  Because that is what I was created to long for, that’s the only place I find true peace and wisdom.  I pray that the deep ache and longing continues to grow.  Whether I am dirty and tan, yelling for order among a crowded room of kids or whether I am in a big church auditorium telling others about it- there is only one place I find comfort, wholeness, rest, and restoration.    

“Whom have I in heaven but you?  And earth has nothing I desire besides you.  My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.”

Psalm 73:25-26