I was working in our church nursery and I watched little Jack, waiting to see if he would come out of it or if he needed help. And then, little Callie came over. She was the prettiest thing you've ever seen in her pink smocked dress, her little gold necklace, and her back lit curly golden locks making her look like everything that's holy and good in the world. She stood toe to toe to Jack without saying a word. He didn't flinch or acknowledge her. He just keep his eyes down, heart closed. She tried bending down to meet his eyes. She even tried mirroring his sad posture, but after she could tell it wasn't helping, she silently moved on to run and chase bubbles. Sweet girl. Jack looked over his shoulder a little bit as she ran away, but it was so brief and sad. There he was again- head down, dejected.
It was then that I knew it was my turn.
I didn't want to confuse him with his twin brother so I double checked the name tag on his back and then I bent down and asked little Jack what was wrong.
His bottom lip quivered. Tears burst out.
"I want my mommy and daddy" he said in the most familiar and sad way that kids say things like this.
I picked him up and he calmed down, melting into my arms. I held him for the rest of the hour, telling him that it would be fine and that mommy and daddy would be back soon.
Some things like this don't change with age or time. Sometimes we just need to be held and we just need someone to tell us that it's all going to be all right and that Jesus is going to come back and everything will be made right again. Sometimes even the most beautiful and holy things of this world can't heal that place in our hearts that just plain ache.
This week, I'm thankful for my Jack that has held me with his arms and his words and his love, reminding me that it's all going to be all right.
Sometimes we just need to be held.