A mother sat quietly in her easy chair. Upon the floor near her was her
little one playing—piling his blocks one upon another, then throwing them
down and laughing in childish glee. He was all absorbed in his play. The
mother gazed upon him with her eyes beaming. Presently she began to call
him, “Baby, come to Mama! Baby, Baby, come to Mama!” but he played on
unheeding. Again she called, but he paid no attention; his mind was
occupied with his own affairs.
Presently the mother quietly slipped from her chair and went into an
adjoining room, out of the baby’s sight. He did not notice her go. He
supposed that she was right there and that he could go to her at any time;
but happening to glance up from his play, he saw that the chair was empty.
The laughter ceased at once, and a cloud came over his features; he turned
and looked all around the room, but his mama was not in sight. He saw only
a stranger sitting in an easy chair. A pang of startled fear passed
through him, and he began to cry and call very earnestly, in his baby way,
for his mama.
It brought a quick response. The mother, leaving her concealment, rushed
to him quickly, picked him up, and hugged him tightly to her bosom. His
chubby baby arms were clasped about her neck as though he would never let
her go. Soon the tears were gone and the baby’s face lay against that of
the mother, while the joy of the mother-heart caused the eyes to shine
like stars.
Now, the mother did not go away from the child because she did not love
it, or because she thought that it did not love her; but she wanted to
draw its attention away from its little concerns to herself. She wanted to
show her affection for it and to receive its baby caresses in return.
Like that little one, we sometimes become so absorbed in our own
pleasures, our work, or some little personal interest, that God can not
attract our attention. His father-heart yearns for a season of communion
with us. He wants to show his love to us and receive, in turn, our love
and communion. But we do not heed him; we are too busy with other things;
and so he quietly withdraws himself, and we become aware that we are
alone. With that presence gone, how lonely we feel! How dark the world
suddenly grows! How quickly we lose interest in the things that held our
attention before! How we yearn for his presence again! how our hearts
reach out for him! how our tears start! We think, “What have we done that
caused him to leave us? have we grieved away his Spirit? have we sinned
against him?” But ah! he is not gone far; he is just beyond our vision. He
is watching; he is waiting for our hearts to be drawn back to himself.
The mother would not have left her child if by leaving she would have
placed him in danger. She did not mean to stay away. So God knows that to
leave us thus is not to expose us to danger. He is watching, waiting
anxiously the moment when he may return; and ah! when he does return and
takes us in his bosom, what words of comfort he speaks! what tender
affection he shows! and how our hearts are melted and poured out in
thanksgiving and adoration before him! If God apparently withdraws from
us, it is only because he sees that we need to be left alone for a season.
He sees that the heart must be drawn away from selfish interest; and when
this is accomplished, he comes back and reveals to us anew the fulness and
richness of his love.