Is

There is nothing in the world like holding a small, small child in your arms and feeling him fall asleep, his quick tiny breaths slowing the least bit, feeling the rapid heartbeat close to your own, thinking of his short baby life and the life that stretches ahead of him.

And there is little in the world like having a child tuck her arm through your elbow during the car ride home, resting her head on your arm to drift briefly away before waking to stumble to her bed, her honeyblonde head full of half-formed dreams.

It is hard to describe. I don't know if i can really say what I want to here. But there's something about the way children trust when they're tired. There's something about being big enough, strong enough, for them to lean on and drift away against.
I will not fall apart when a ten-day old little boy is placed in my arms.
I won't crack if a ten-year old girl lays her head on my shoulder.

I need to take a note from them.

God will not tip over if a twenty-year-old me leans on Him.
Moreover, He will not change if the whole world leaned on Him; conversely, He would be moved not one whit if the whole world rejected Him.
He does not change. He is God. The word is a foreign one, implying a power alien, unknown. And I do not understand all it connotes. But in his very "other"ness I derive at once awe and comfort.
So tonight I sleep, knowing that He is, and only that. It is enough.