“I will repay you for the years the locusts have eaten..."
We share an unspoken bond, a connection like no other I've known since I sat in my own mother's lap decades ago. It's almost like our hearts are rhythmically connected. We enjoy one another's silence and participate in encouraging gab fests--either way, these precious moments speak volumes.
When we're together my mind eclipses back to childhood memories of working alongside my own mother. With six and nine years between my older sisters and I, I enjoyed hours of solitary time with Mom while they attended school. Whatever she did, I wanted to do, even the menial tasks like ironing, vacuuming and grocery shopping. It didn't matter what she did, her presence comforted me. But, my sweet spot with Mom was when I curled up on her lap, my ear pressed up against her chest and listened to the rhythm of her heartbeat and the echo of her every breath.
I was nine years old when my parents divorced. When my father walked out one hot day in August, my mother and I switched roles. She needed my support, my strength, my emotional stability and comfort. I haven't felt her comfort since and there are moments I still grieve that loss, wishing I could still curl up on her lap and press my ear against her chest and listen to her rhythmic heartbeat and fall asleep to the echoes of her breath.
Thursday I received a desperate plea from my daughter-in-law to babysit my four-year-old granddaughter overnight who was reversing all the vacation packing. Of course, I was delighted to spend another day with my granddaughter before they flew off across country for a week!
During the Maundy Thursday service my granddaughter curled up on my lap, ear pressed up against my chest and I gently rocked her back and forth in my seat while the piano prelude filled the sanctuary. Then out of nowhere she looked up at me with her big, baby-blues and said, "I love listening to your heart, Grams." Our own little sweet spot!
God reminded me right then of a word a friend received on my behalf earlier this year:
"Dawn, God will restore all the years the locusts have eaten. He will do this through your granddaughter."
And He is! Our heart-bond is no coincidence. Rather, it is a beautiful gift--restorative art, woven together by the hands of our loving God, just for us. Never do I take for granted the moments we share because I know each day is a heart-made gift.
Is there a place in your heart that needs God's restorative art? Is there someone or someplace God's given you to restore the years the locusts have eaten? Are you that restorative gift God's using in someones life, today?
Father God, no words can properly express my thankfulness for the restorative work of art you are creating by your own hand in my life through this special relationship. But, I am grateful, ever grateful. May you do the same for any reading this today who mourn loss in their lives. Restore them, Father. May they recognize the Giver as well as the gift and give you praise. Amen.