Turned and Turning

Me and my "bitty-boy," enjoying the rope swing.

She asked what my sense of God was and it came like a flash in my mind.

Levi is my “uppie” boy still at three and a half.  Lately he’s taken to bargaining to achieve a place on my hip.

“If you take me uppie, I will give you a kiss,” he says with his face lifted and searching.
Lifting him to sit on my side or to straddle my belly, he presses his chapped lips to my check all satisfied sweetness and light with his short skinny arms twined back beneath my hair – he clings to my neck like heavy fruit hanging on the vine. 

I don’t know why he’s obsessed with being “up,” except that he’s the youngest (by nine minutes) and that it probably has to do with being, for a brief while at least, on eye level with those who so often tower over him.  He’s not so easily dismissed this way and that boy, he wants to be taken seriously almost as much as he wants to be babied.
His eyes have changed lately, though I couldn’t tell you when.  Once a pale blue, they're now a deeper shade, something between blue and green.  Sometimes when he’s telling me something, pressing his words on me with a sense of urgency and importance, I get lost in his eyes and the long gently curved lashes that frame them. 

Fine blond eyebrows follow the curve of his brow and I watch for the wrinkle he was born with, the furrow that shows itself sometimes still on the inside end of his left brow when he scrunches his face in play or in pain.  Lost in his eyes and face I stop listening to the words and marvel somehow at the fullness of him.  

Sensing the shift, he doesn't let me get away with it for long.  When he's riding high on my hip and my attention wanders his little hands reach up, firmly framing my face, one on each cheek, as he turns my head, not gently, toward himself.  With his hands, he shifts my focus and – should I persist, say, in talking to my husband or checking on dinner by turning my head away - he reaches out again and again to turn me back toward himself. 

"This is my sense," I say, "of God right now."  

God who speaks at eye level as I listen, drawing me into his eyes, the fullness that exists beyond individual words.  God who reaches with a hand, persistent and demanding, like a child, turning me again and again to himself.
“If you take me, I will give you a kiss,” God whispers and I am forever turned and turning toward those words and the eyes beyond them, turning toward the heart that seeks me, that turns me toward itself. 

How does God get your attention these days?
I'm happy to be linking up with #TellHisStory this week. 


  1. Absolutely beautiful, Kelly! I love when my little one guides my face toward her own, getting my full attention. How wonderful to envision our loving, heavenly Father whispering words of love as he turns our faces toward His own.

  2. This is so beautiful! I often feel like God is too far for me to reach maybe because I feel like most of what I'm praying for is pended. I forget that God meets us where we are and there is no need to try so hard to reach Him. He's always available, trying to see us eye to eye and gives us a kiss when we take Him.

    Thanks, Kelly. :)

  3. How does God get my attention? By speaking to me when I look at the window and stop to steal a moment and listen..... Oh, He is good.