Oh, eager, hungry, busy-seeking child,
Rise up, turn round, run in, run up the stair;
Far in a chamber from rude noise exiled,
Thy father sits, pondering how thou dost fare.
The mighty man will clasp thee to his breast;
Will kiss thee, stroke the tangles of thy hair,
And lap thee warm in fold on fold of lovely rest.
-George MacDonald, Diary of an Old Soul
This struck me. I so just want to find comfort today in God, my loving Father. Eager, hungry, busy-seeking child, that's me. He seems so distant, I lose track of how close and strong his love is, how he thinks of us always, and so tenderly.
This little poem is from a collection in which George MacDonald (one of my very favorite authors) presents a short stanza for each day of the year. Like much of his work, the poems run the gamut; some are gems, some impenetrable, and some are untidy at best. I love him not so much as a poet as as a teacher and storyteller.
I remember this from my own Papa, being in his lap, feeling his breaths go up and down, holding his big finger with my whole hand. It was he who explained to me that I never need be afraid of losing myself in God, that when I am most absorbed in God, most forgetful of myself, I will most truly be myself. And he told me that he loved me, and that Jesus loves me the best. So today this busy-seeking child wishes she could run to her king-Papa, find herself in his arms.