Fragile

This is me trying to read this morning.

I know, I look different than you expected...but that's my knee and my pen with kitten all over it.

This kitten can be a real inconvenience but he's so crazy cute, that I don't mind. And when I pick him up and feel his fragile little frame in my hands, at the mercy of my grasp....well, it does something to me. I mean his rib cage feels like a furry goose egg, so breakable, and suddenly my heart gets all mushy.

This is a good mushy.

I got this picture of how I am like this to God, very fragile. He could crush me in a nano-second. I am not convenient (there are witnesses for this). Yet He welcomes me.

It is a really comforting to realize that He actually likes my playfulness, my curious questioning, understands when I am frightened or confused, AND thinks I'm crazy cute, in a flawed-from-the-21st century sort of way.

Maybe I'm thinking on this because it's Christmas week and the manger that the kitten keeps trashing is really on my mind, not so much the porcelian one though. The smelly messy real one thousands of years ago with the God-Child in it. He made Himself fragile. Like me.

He really gets me.