Everlasting Arms

By Cari Johnson

At this time of year, I think of my Dad often... this will be our 7th Christmas without him. I remember his artful skill as a conversationalist. I remember his generosity and his wisdom. I remember his perfectly straight, really white teeth. (He should've done commercials, or something!) But my most vivid memory, even after all this time, is of his arms. When I was young, he would flex his forearm and slightly twist his wrist, to prove the whole "Pop-Eye's spinach" theory. I also remember how he would lean back against the pillows of his bed to read. As he held a book with one hand, he would stretch his other back to rest behind his head. When I was little, I would climb up onto his bed, lie beside him, and rest my head on his folded arm. He would continue reading, and every once in a while, as he brought his hand forward to turn a page, he would gently brush the hair away from my face. With my ear pressed against the front of his shoulder, I could almost hear every beat of his loving heart. Today, the mere memory of that warmth reinforces me with confidence, and security.

I am grateful that, while on earth, my dad could communicate to me a glimpse of peace and security that our heavenly Father offers forever. Deut. 33: 27 says, "The eternal God is our refuge, and underneath are the everlasting arms…" and Isaiah 40 says, "He gathers the lambs in His arms and carries them close to his heart...." Can't you hear the first few lines of that great hymn? "What a fellowship, what a joy divine…what a blessedness, what a peace is mine, leaning on the everlasting arms."

This morning Luke awoke and without a word, ran to jump in our bed with us...I instinctively moved over, stretched my arm across my pillow and let him rest his tousled blond head on my arm. "Dear Lord, let this child feel Your love and peace through me...and teach us both to lean on YOUR everlasting arms!"