Rocking Chair Moments

How your life perspective can change through a simple late night moment.

It was a typical middle of the night event, typical at least if you’re a parent and have an infant. About 2:30 in the morning I heard my 6 month old son start to cry. My wife had just fed him and settled him in. So this time I got up. He was a bit fussy so I took him into the living room, hoping he would not wake her or his older brother in the next room.

I sat with him in a rocking chair that faces the living room window. It was a full moon so the light poured into the spot where we sat. I began to rock him, watching his face, marveling at the miracle I was holding. He stopped crying and was just being … a baby, looking around at everything he could.

Then at one point, as the moonlight bathed his face, I noticed he was looking at me. Not just staring … he was looking at me, checking me out, studying me. Looking at every feature, with a solitary purpose he was fixed on me. I began to hum and sing softly. He was listening intently, as though he were memorizing the sound of my voice. As he checked me out, I looked back at him and thought, “You don’t do anything!”

I mean, he’s just there. He’s so small, not very productive. He just is. And yet, my heart was overflowing with love and devotion for him. I would lay down my life ten times over for him. I thought, “Could I love you more?” I kept rocking and glanced out the window. The front yard too was bathed in moonlight. I was moved by this whole scene and heard a voice inside me say … “I feel that way about you too!”

I realized at that moment how much God longs for the times to just hold us. And how, by comparison to all He provides in our lives, we don’t do much. Yet, His love and devotion are boundless, endless. And He did lay down His life for us. I thought, “What is our part?” and realized … to check Him out, to study Him and learn the sound of His voice. A voice we need to know surely, especially during the rough times life can bring. The impact of the picture overwhelmed me.

I turned back and my son was asleep. I smiled. Standing up slowly I brought him back to his crib, placing him in it gently. I paused and whispered, “I will always love you.” I could hear that voice repeating that to me as well. How deeply must our Father long for those rocking chair moments with us … moments when He has our complete focus. Times when we use that focus to study Him, learn Him, to check Him out … all while safely nestled in His loving embrace.

I quietly left his room and got back into bed. My wife asked “everything ok?” I simply replied, “everything is fine” and then thought to myself … “sleep well my child.” Once again, I heard that still small voice direct that same phrase to me also.