A Jeep In Summer

Dependent

Babysat Analeasa on Tuesday. Highly rewarding experience. I do believe that she loves her Uncle Mike.

The last time I took care of her without the presence of her parents she had an emotional meltdown. It was a real catch-22 situation. She was holding on to me because I was the only person there, but crying in high ecstatic fashion because I was the only one there.

Was able to avoid meltdown this time. Last time she ate way behind schedule--not really my fault--and I knew that I needed to start getting that stuff down her ASAP. So I walked in and took her straight to the high chair. (BTW, she does an excellent job of keeping her hands down without being told. Which, for those of you who have never fed babies, avoids the spreading of food all over the baby's self.) She was definitely on the edge of tears a couple of times during the evening, but I distracted her with books.

At about 9 pm, she was doing the almost-walking thing, hanging onto my propped up legs, and she laid her head down on my legs and stood there. "Oh yeah, you're worn out." So I swept her up to my chest and her head went straight onto my shoulder. She got that warm heavy feeling that shows up when she's not moving around, when she's tired, when she's on the edge of sleep. I thought, "Wow, for about two and a half hours now, you have been completely relying on me--for food, for care, for safety."

This is what happens when we are dependent on God. We are babies, maybe even more so, for we rely on him for every breath. And that's the place I need to find, where I need to live--completely reliant. I think I can and should do so much. That place where I stand alone is a place where I do not trust.

I want to be like Analeasa trusting her Uncle Mike--partly because she loves him, but completely because she has to.

For life, and breath, and daily food, we give you thanks, O Lord.