Tender Moments

 It was a moment when the hopes and dreams of a young couple were about to be realized.  When the planning and work of months was about to come to fruition.  It was a tender moment.

The church was full of family and friends.  Glen and the preacher, a friend of ours, were waiting on the other end of the church outside the sanctuary.  My father, sister, sister-in-law and nieces, who compromised my bridal party, waited in the foyer with me.

Those who were in the sanctuary had just finished singing a congregational hymn, "The Solid Rock."  As my nieces began the processional, my sister turned to me with moist eyes and said, "I love you."  As I recall, my response was, "Don't you dare make me cry!"

My sister watching
our first married kiss.

I know our father and sister-in-law were also there with us, and probably the ever-hovering wedding planner, but when I think of this moment, I  think only of my sister.  In my mind, there were only the two of us in that foyer.  It was a tender moment between sisters on one of the most important days of my life.

Another, perhaps not tender, but certainly intimate moment with my sister occurred when she was in labor with her last child.  I had come to her house to sit with the rest of her children while she went to the hospital.  She was sitting on the couch next to me.  As a contraction started, wordlessly, she gripped my hand.  I didn't understand much about labor then, but I remember thinking it must be very powerful to cause my sister to turn my hand to mush like that.

Tender, intimate moments between two people help to bond them together.  They give them moments they can remember when they shared a common goal, a similar liking, a hope or a dream.

Our moments with God can be tender and intimate as well.  Often when we think of prayer, we think of lists of people or concerns to pray about, or about seconds and minutes that should tick away on the clock.  Do's and don'ts may permeate our thoughts. While prayer may sometimes contain those aspects, it does not always need to.  

I remember when my mother was dying of cancer.  Grief and helplessness seemed to threaten to overwhelm me.  At times all I could pray was, "Lord, help."  I was a wordless, powerless child crying out to an all-powerful Father who Himself is the Word.  He knew my heart, He knew my pain.  And He was comfort and peace and yes, even joy in a time of sorrow and heartbreak.

There have been times we have stood on the top of a mountain with sweat running down our faces from the effort of getting there and looked out at a vista so gorgeous only the Lord could have painted it.  In those moments the only words which seem fitting are, "Oh, Lord."  For Him to have given us not only the strength and ability to hike up that mountain, but then graced us with the wonder and beauty of His creation left me speechless.

Let us look for these tender moments with our God.  The are infinitely more tender to Him than they are to us.  He loves for us to turn our attention to Him, to look to Him even if it means uttering only a few feeble words.  He knows our hearts and He loves our hearts.

"When Thou saidst, 'Seek ye my face;'

my heart said unto Thee, 'Thy face, Lord, will I seek.' "

Psalm 27:8

  

I put this one here just because I like it.