Hugging Jesus

His fist pounded down upon the desk, “Wake up!” And he yelled my name. As he demanded respect, all in the same moment of fear, hIs arms wrapped lovingly around me and I cried. I sobbed with convulsions in my chest. He held me and rubbed my back. It was the perfect safe place. The he took me by the shoulders, looked me in the face and gave me a reassuring smile. 

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Maestro

Potter.  In the palm of your hands, rolling, forming.  Holding up your clay with the tips of your fingers and then placing it in the atmosphere.

Chef.  Measuring out the water, holding up, tilting, splashing the oceans onto the clay of the earth.  Glancing through the pantries.  Choosing a container, removing the lid and sprinkling out the seeds upon the ground.

Conductor.  Your baton is held in your right hand, your left hand held up.  Paused.  Gently sway, lowered, lowered.  Then you lift your right.  The trees rise.  Your left hand raises the flowers.  The grandest symphony.  All of creation applauds

Artist.  Painting the sunset, adding a mountain here and a flower there.  Your hand on your chin as you take a step back.  Yes, let’s paint a river here.  And a bit more stars there.

Scientist.  Beakers, hot plate, goggles, and gloves.  The equations are figured, the findings are calculated.  Science is a great study of the measurements of your creation.

King.  Your wisdom sets laws, your justice carries them out.  No evil is tolerated, no criminal roams free.  Opportunity and freedom flourish.

Father.  Wrapped in your arms, you kiss my cheeks.  A proud smile spreads across your face, lifted to your knee, your finger touches my nose and then you say, “My child, just wait, the best is yet to come.”