Too Young to Know The Story - Caylee in the Lap of the Lord

Go down

Too Young to Know The Story - Caylee in the Lap of the Lord

Post by notagrandmayet on Sat Nov 15, 2008 4:08 pm

Too Young to Know The Story

“You got an ouchie, Je-jus?” Concern washed over her tiny face as her little hands gently pulled His hand in for a closer look.

“Mm Hmm”, He answered softly as He watched the little one tenderly inspect the wound on His hand. He knew well this compassion of which He was now the recipient. Then, with perfect grace and careful precision, she bent her head down and softly kissed His hand near the wound. She was too young to know The Story.

Though she could not understand, Joy Unspeakable overflowed His heart, and the River of Life was filled with perfect Grace and Mercy! Raining down upon the Earth, He knew that many hearts would be touched; many hearts would be changed.

Looking upwards into His face with her soft brown eyes, she barely whispers, “I kissed it. Is it better, now, Je-jus?” The radiance of His smile washed over her, as she knew He was pleased. She smiled back at Him; all her concern had turned to perfect peace.

“Oh, yes, Caylee. It’s much better, thank you.” She snuggled closer to Him, laying her head upon His chest. He drew her closer, cherishing the perfect love she had bestowed upon Him.

Suddenly, wide-eyed and with a voice of urgency, she asked Him, “Where’s Momma, Je-jus?”

He threw back His head and laughed with delight. “Right her, little one, right here,” He tickled her as He handed her the little baby doll.

“Thank you,” she said sweetly, as she snuggled in again, safe and peaceful in His loving arms.

A tear rolled down His face, as He thought, “Such a precious gift I had given to her.”

No more hatred. No more judgment. No more bitterness in our hearts.

Thank You, Jesus, for rescuing Caylee.

Thank You, Caylee, for rescuing me.

Cricket Tracker
Cricket Tracker

Back to top Go down

Back to top

- Similar topics

Permissions in this forum:
You cannot reply to topics in this forum