He will cover you with his feathers. He will shelter you with his wings. His faithful promises are your armor and protection. Psalm 91:4
It reminded me of a section of my book, so I thought I’d share it with you:
Spooning has always made me feel secure. The first time I remember spooning, I was three years old. We lived in a three-room house in Snyder, Texas, and I slept in a crib in my parents’ room. I had the croup, the old-fashioned name for bronchitis, that cough that makes your child sound like she swallowed a seal. The treatment of choice was mentholated steam in an enclosed environment. My enclosed environment was my crib with a blanket draped over it. Like most 3-year-olds, I wasn’t crazy about the dark, so Mom climbed into the crib with me, pulled me onto her lap in a spoon-like embrace, and told me fairy tales. The treatment was soothing on lots of levels.
Years later, when I was in my late teens, we had a kind of rerun. Most of my dreams were pleasant, but one particular night, I had one that was not so pleasant. It was dark, I was alone, and I was frantic. I woke up with a start, jerked into a sitting position, and called for my mama. Those sensitive ears women are gifted with when they give birth are always attuned to the distress of their children, regardless of age, and Mom responded immediately.
“Come on in here,” she said.
She didn’t have to ask me twice. I was beside her bed in a flash, and she held up the covers, welcoming me in. She lay on her side facing me and wrapped her arm and the blanket around me as I scooted back against her. She was sleeping alone because Dad was working nights, so maybe she welcomed the company as much as I did.
David and I only knew each other for five months before we married, so we had lots of getting-to-know-you moments after the wedding. Most were nice, and some were outstanding, like when I discovered that he loves to spoon. I had spent the last ten years in a lonely bed, lying awake many nights, wishing for someone to hold me and chase away the nightmares and worries. The first time David put his arms around me and pulled me against him as we fell asleep, I added one more to a long list of reasons that made me certain we were made for each other.