Her tiny fingers curled around my thumb. With her other hand, she fingered the edge of the blanket. With a deep sigh, she closed her eyes.  It didn’t take long for her breathing to become slow and regular.  Her dark lashes brushed against her perfect baby cheeks, her lips pursed together as if she were about to give a sweet kiss, the weight of her head heavy against the crook of my arm; baby Eloise was asleep and I was content to pause in that fleeting moment, reflecting about when my own children were very tiny.

Somedays, most days actually, I miss have tiny, little people surrounding me.  I am not saying I’d trade my own growing crew. I wouldn’t, even though parenting them seems to be harder as they grow bigger. With the youngest turning eleven before the summer’s end, these kids of mine aren’t so tiny anymore.

Well, most of them aren’t tiny …


I’m not sure exactly from where Megan gets her petite body. Her biological mother is average size; her father is rather tall. But, despite her tiny size, Megan has a powerhouse personality. She is a bundle of energy that moves in a thousand directions at one time. After Jon and I married, I learned quickly that if I didn’t keep Megan busy, she would keep me busy! She’s been known to rearrange entire rooms in half an hour, organize closets with one hand tied behind her back, and create enough art projects to empty a craft bin of all its supplies in a single afternoon.

If there is one thing Megan does not like, it is being such a tiny girl.  Her biggest disappointment this week has been that most people are surprised to learn she is turning thirteen in just three days. Truthfully, she looks more like she is about to celebrate birthday number eleven. Of course, having a younger sister who is physically bigger doesn’t help in this matter at all. At best, strangers assume Meg and Julia are twins. At worst, they believe Julia to be the older one based solely on her size.

There’s no use reminding Megan that Julia is not even her blood relative. To her, this makes no difference whatsoever. And please, whatever you do, don’t suggest she might feel differently when she is older (say 40 or so) and looks much younger than  her actual age. She firmly believes she will still feel the same way she feels now. And what Megan wants, or at least believes she wants, is to be big.

I cannot relate to Megan’s desire to be big. Blessed with good ole’ Irish blood, I am what some people might refer to as “big boned” or others would call “large framed.”  However you put it, I’m not a petite person. When I was in elementary and jr. high school, I was always the tallest girl in my class, and often even several inches taller than the girls in the grade ahead of me. For most of my growing up years, all I dreamed of was waking up the next morning to discover I was suddenly a tiny girl. Even though I prayed for this to happen on an almost nightly basis, I never did feel tiny compared to others.

Well, except for that one time …


Shortly after my ex husband left our marriage, I returned to work as an elementary school teacher. I already felt small emotionally, weakened by the shock of all that had occurred. One morning, as I stood in the hallway talking to several teachers, school employees and a mother or two, I realized I was the shortest one there. Everyone and everything seemed so tall, as if I had suddenly become very, very tiny.  The feeling of insignificance was overwhelming in that moment. I wanted to crawl in a hole and hide there until I was able to grow more.

Honestly, I think my reaction in that moment had more to do with my emotional and mental state at the time than it did to my body size, but I’ll never forget the scripture God brought to my mind as I stood there feeling so tiny and small and insignificant:

When I consider Your heavens, the work of Your fingers,
The moon and the stars, which You have ordained,
What is man that You are mindful of him?

~Psalm 8: 3-4

It’s a hard truth to fathom. Who am I, out of all people on this earth, that God should notice me?  Who am I that He would listen to my cares, bend His ear to my concerns, offer His help in my troubles? Who am I that God would desire for me to know Him as He knows me? Who am I that God would call me His beloved?

T is for knowing that I am a rather TINY part of God’s creation …

yet He desires me (and every other soul on earth) to know Him, love Him and spend eternity with Him.


I hope you enjoy this music video of the song Your Beloved by Brent Helming, and know that no matter how tiny you feel, God’s love for you is bigger than anything you could ever imagine.

3 thoughts on “T is for …

  1. Haha! Brent Helming is a good friend of mine! I remember when he wrote this song. I think my husband even played guitar for the demo. One of my all-time favorites! 😀

    1. How neat that you are friends with Brent Helming! You know … when I was writing the post for T, I wasn’t at all sure this was what God wanted me to write. I felt uncertain at several places that I was making sense. It all felt disjointed. As my family left for Wednesday night church services, I prayed that God would give me a sense of peace about the post (which was still unpublished). Believe it or not, we sang “Your Beloved” that night at church, a song we’ve never sung before. I’d never heard of Brent Helming. It was that song that gave me the inspiration to finish writing and publish the T post. I think I’ve listened to the song half a dozen times since then, just meditating on the words. Tell Brent how God used “Your Beloved” to bless me this week … he is a talented song-writer and musician!

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