At 1am last night, the youngest began crying in her bed.

From the moment she began to even mumble, we heard it on the monitor, and me and her daddy were listening.

She cried and tried to settle back in on her own, tried to adjust and snuggle in, but she couldn’t.

She got up and went to her sister’s bed and said, “sissy, sissy…” she got no response.

So she finally calls us— ‘mama, my daddy…”

So mama gets up, goes up the stairs, and scoops her up, and brings her to our room.

The moment I walk in the room with her, daddy’s arms are there open wide to settle it all.

She curls up in daddy’s arms, and there she finally finds perfect rest.

Sometimes we need to ask to be carried to the Father.

I believe that the family unit God established for us, was originally intended to be a daily, in the flesh example of the Trinity for us to see at work in the world. Mamas and daddys look like the Holy Spirit and the Father, and Jesus like a big brother.

Mama, as the one who comforts, soothes, teaches, encourages, helps.

Daddy as safety, security, provider, strength and might, defender.

The Holy Spirit will comfort you as He carries you to the arms of the Father.

In the Father’s arms is the one place of true rest.

The only place where it’s all settled.