Arms Wide Open

        What do you think of when you hear the phrase "arms wide open"? I always pictured this: a father throwing his arms out, a child running into them, a warm and passionate embrace. It's how I envisioned my relationship with Christ, my Heavenly Father. He had his arms wide open, waiting for me to abandon myself and run into His embrace.
        I was at church recently and we sang a song by Misty Edwards called "Arms Wide Open." I had a vision that changed how I see Christ. "What does love look like?" is the question I've been pondering. / "What does love look like?" is the question I've been asking You. I've been having a hard time grasping the concept of how much God loves me. I have grown up in the church and the teachings have been engrained in my mind--"God loves you," "Jesus died for you," et cetera. But I'm trying to understand God's love on an intimate level, going beyond the cliche phrases and the routine of church.
        And then I saw Him there, hanging on a tree, looking at me / He was looking at me, looking at Him, staring at me / I could not escape those beautiful eyes / And I began to weep and weep. I began to vividly see what the song described. I began to see Christ's eyes, looking at me deeply, intently. In that moment I couldn't catch my breath; it hit me harder than ever before that my sin had put Him on the cross. I wept.
        He had arms wide open, a heart exposed / Arms wide open; He was bleeding, bleeding / This is how I know what love is. My heart was pierced hearing these lyrics. Christ's arms are wide open because they were nailed that way. His arms stretched from one side of the cross's beam to the other, held there by a nail in each wrist. This is how I know what love is. Love is the perfect Son of God pouring out His blood, His life, while hanging on a tree for my sin.
        And as I sat there weeping, crying / Those beautiful eyes, full of desire and love / He said to me, "You shall love Me, you shall love Me, you shall love Me."  When I first saw His eyes I thought I saw pain, sorrow, and betrayal. I felt like I had betrayed Him, as if I had personally kissed His cheek to turn Him over to the soldiers, as if I had swung the hammer that drove the nails into His flesh. But His eyes weren't blaming me. His eyes were full of desire and love for me. He died for His love for me. "This is how God showed his love to us: He sent his one and only Son into the world so that we could have life through him." (1 John 4:9) When you understand how deep and infinite His love is, you can only begin to love Him back. "You shall love Me, you shall love Me..."

Paintings of Jesus

      When I was little, I would kiss Jesus good night. My grandma and I would do the same thing each night I was spending the night at my grandparents' house. I'd sit up in bed with the blankets over my legs. Gram would sit on the edge of the bed, holding a painting of Jesus. This painting is the only image of Jesus I have--whenever I think of Him, I envision the painting Gram kept. It was only the head and shoulders of Jesus, but that's all I needed.
      Every night, we'd sit on the bed, looking at the painting. Then we'd start to sing. It was always "Jesus Loves Me"--complete with hand motions--then sometimes "Jesus Loves the Little Children." Gram and I would pray--hands folded, heads bowed, and eyes squeezed shut. Those were probably the most genuine prayers I ever prayed--from the heart of a child, innocent and eager to love Jesus Christ. After that, I would lean over and give Jesus a peck on the cheek and say "Good night, Jesus." I could almost see Him smile and say "Good night" back to me. Gram would set the picture on the desk next to the bed, tuck me in, and turn off the lights. No need for a night light because Jesus was right there, next to me, watching over me and protecting me.
      What happened to that child-like innocence? Why can't I bring myself to talk to Jesus now like I did back then? Why is it so uncomfortable for me just to whisper prayers in my heart to Him? It makes me feel so sad that I don't have the same eagerness to know Jesus, the willingness and earnestness to try to seek Him. Somewhere along the line, I lost my innocence. Somewhere along the line, something happened that made me be so ashamed of myself I couldn't bear to look at Jesus in the face, let alone talk to Him. Sometimes, I can't even look at my own reflection, to look at myself in the face. But I'm not the only one: It happens to all of us eventually.
      Something happens to everyone when they grow up: The world gets in the way. School, work, social problems, money problems, the list goes on... We become lost in the strife of the world. Our prayers become wish lists. Our prayers become shorter and shorter. Our prayers become later at night, when we're so tired, we fall asleep in the middle of them.
      I truly miss the child-like prayers, the singing, the knowledge Jesus was right there. Above all, I miss the good night kisses. It was probably the most humble, blameless heart speaking directly to Jesus. But now, I find it nearly impossible to connect with Him. I know He's reaching out to me--it's my fault I'm not hearing Him. I know I must remove my stubborness, my pride, in order to hear His voice as loudly as I did as a child. But it's much easier said than done. I feel guilt and shame for my past wrongdoings. I'm a harsher judge on myself than anyone else could ever be. I know with my head that I'm forgiven, but my heart has a harder time accepting that truth.
      I long for the day when I can hold the picture of Jesus again and kiss it good night just one more time. That will be the moment when I know I am secure in the place God wants me to be. In the arms of Jesus.

Blankets

      Every child has his or her favorite security blanket. It's dragged around all day and slept with all night. By the time the child is six or seven years old, the blanket is worn thin and ragged around all the edges. It has mud stains, slobber stains, food stains, and all other sorts of stains. There are holes, both large and small, across the blanket. When the parents insist the blanket be taken away and replaced, it is the hardest thing for their young ears to hear. Their precious blanket has been with them twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, for as long as they can remember, and now their parents dare to take it away? For a young child, their parents' actions are near to betrayal. How could they be so heartless to replace something the child cared for so much?
      For one thing, the blanket is among the most comforting things in the world. Blankets are never outgrown. Yes, they might be traded for newer or better ones over the ages, but nearly everyone has a blanket as long as they're alive. Whenever you feel sad, cold, or lonely, it is easy to cuddle with a blanket and cry. People often turn you down when you want comfort from them, but the blanket can never say no.
      Many kids carry their blankets for extra security. In the midst of a fearful experience, they cling to the blanket as if their life depends on it. Security and comfort go hand in hand. Comfort is relaxed and free of anxiety or fear while security provides protection from harm. A security blanket gives the sense of protection; as long as you are holding onto it you will be safe, thereby comforting you.
      On dark and cold nights, it is so wonderful to be able to wrap up in the warmth of a blanket. To feel the softness against your skin and feel the coldness flee your body is to lead you into a state of pure content.
      There's a joke that goes as follows: "When a little girl got home from church, her mother asked her what she learned about. She replies, 'In Sunday school, I learned that God is a quilt.' Puzzled, the mother asks what she means. The little girl says, 'Well, Pastor said God is our Comforter.'"
      In a sense, the little girl was right--God is like a blanket. He provides security and comfort, and never leaves us. Like a blanket, He is with us as we fall asleep so we won't be afraid. We are to take hold of Him, cherish Him, and never let Him go (after all, He will never leave us). He will never say no and will be there to hear us cry. He holds out His arms to us so we can be wrapped in His warm embrace. His unfailing love is our comfort and our security for us to hold on to.

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Verses related to comfort and security:
"My comfort in my suffering is this: Your promise preserves my life." Psalm 119:50

"May your unfailing love be my comfort, according to your promise to your servant." Psalm 119:76

"I will both lie down in peace, and sleep; For You alone, O Lord, make me dwell in safety." Psalm 4:8

"LORD, you have assigned me my portion and my cup; you have made my lot secure. The boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places; surely I have a delightful inheritance. I will praise the LORD, who counsels me; even at night my heart instructs me. I have set the LORD always before me. Because he is at my right hand, I will not be shaken." Psalm 16:5-8