Nestle

The baby nestles its face in its mother’s bosom. The world outside is cold, brutal, unforgiving, whistling with ice-laced snow, but the baby is aware of nothing but her mother’s warmth. 

When we run to the Father and hide ourselves in His light, it is as if the darkness vanishes. Surrendered to Him, we suddenly need fear nothing, even if demons yet lurk close at hand. For though they may be present, they are powerless. For though they would consume us if given the chance, the Father’s light is all-consuming. Nestled in His warm embrace, we are safe.

Yes, we are safe from the demons that lurk outside—but also from those that haunt us from within. In truth, often it is the devouring jaws of my own weakness that most frighten me. I am tempted to despair, to shut out Love, rather than reach out to Love, which covers a multitude of sins, just as light covers the landscape and banishes the darkness.

In such moments, when I begin to crumple into myself, into the maw that is gaping open and ready to consume me in darkness, something unexpected—something astounding—always happens. Love reaches out to me. Light rends the night, flooding forth, exiling every shadow to its lair, and enfolds me in its warm embrace. Not by my own strength am I saved. Utterly distasteful to myself I may be, deserving to be spurned—yet I am wholly consumed, wholly loved, by Love.

Only in my most wretched moments do I truly realize how we can survive in this cold, brutal, unforgiving world: by nestling in Him.

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