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My grandson once pinched his finger. Nothing serious. Just a small skin squeeze, but the sudden pain startled him. He waddled over to my chair and showed me his finger. I looked at it and asked if he wanted me to kiss it to make it better. He nodded and held up his finger.

I kissed it. "There, it's all better now."

He looked at his finger, looked at me, looked back at his finger, and then said, "Opa, your kisser doesn't work."

How many times have we heard the words, "The cancer has spread,” “There's been an accident,” or “We have to make some cuts in staff?" How many times have we fallen to our knees, begging God to remove the hurt, only to feel the pain gripping our heart?

Healing takes time. My grandson was young. He would learn that with time. God's healing takes time too, but we are young. We will learn this each time a new pain interrupts our day. We will also learn God's love is long-suffering … that He longs to hug us until the pain stops. And in the end, we forget the pain but never the touch of His embrace.

I lifted my grandson and placed him in my lap. I tucked his head against my chest and looked at his finger. In a few minutes, the sniffles stopped, and he hopped down and ran off—no longer focused on the pain.

We are never closer to God than when we hurt. Cry out to Him and say, "Kiss it, Opa, and make it better."

(Photo courtesy of pixabay.)

(For more devotions, visit Christian Devotions.)