Come, Sit With Me

He's six.
Blue eyes.
Gapped-toothed king of cuddles.
Phone-playing Batman kid.
"Come," he calls. "Come sit with me."
And grandma does.

I'm older than six.
Brown eyes.
Lover of sweet boy cuddles.
And the One who gave him life.
"Come," I call, "Come sit with me."
And God does.

God always comes. This One who created the rivers and sun and elephants and bugs. He's the great "I Am." He's the lover of my soul. He's my rock. He's my Shepherd. He listens, guides and feeds my soul. With gentleness, He disciplines.  With tenderness, He calms. With kindness, He leads to rest. And when I praise, God sits, and His presence is all I need.