God Teaches His Child to Walk

(from Hosea 11)

When you were small,
when you were brand new in the world,
God looked at you and loved you.

That is how it was, long ago,
in the days of the prophets,
with a whole people he called his son.
They were little, and they were his.
And out of a hard land called Egypt,
he called them by name and brought them home.

Then he bent down low.
He took two small hands in his.
And he taught his child to walk.
One wobbly step, then another,
arms out, ready to catch.
"You can do it. I'm right here."

He lifted that little one up
and held him to his cheek,
soft cheek to soft cheek,
as close as close can be.

He fed his child with his own hands.
He loosened the heavy straps that rubbed and ached.
He bent down, again and again, just to feed him,
the way you bend to a tiny bird,
the way you cup cool water to dry lips.

But the child grew, and the child forgot.
He let go of the hand that taught him to walk.
He ran off to other arms that did not love him,
the way Gomer ran from Hosea.

And God could have turned away.
He had every reason to.

Instead he opened his heart wide and said:

"How can I give you up?
How can I hand you over?
My heart turns over inside me.
All my tenderness is stirred.
I am God and not a man.
I will not come at you in anger.
I will not let you go."

God could not give his child up.
He just couldn't.
His love was far too strong for that.

And one day,
that very same heart
would come down into the world
on two small feet of his own.

A baby. Out of Egypt, called.
God, learning to walk.
God, held cheek to cheek by his mother.
God, come close enough to take your hand.

His name is Jesus.
And he is the heart of the Father,
walking right toward you,
arms out,
ready to catch you,
saying the same thing he has always said:

"I'm right here.
I will not let you go."

And when your steps wobble,
he does what he has always done.
He bends down low,
takes your hand,
and walks with you all the way home.