Momma Hugs

This cute little picture put a big smile on my face today. (That's me, on the left.)

How often have I been in a difficult place of mind when something simple changed my focus? A touching incident, or an actual touch.


Out of the blue, my teenage son comes up to me . . . "Can I have a Momma hug?"  or "I haven't had my Momma hug in a while." Then, the best part—he wraps his strong lanky arms around me and squeezes me tight. 

For the brief minute this takes place I am transported to Momma Mountain, that restful place above the clouds where everything is fine and life is at its best. I am loved. I am nestled in God's arms through my son's. I linger there awhile.

I'm overwhelmed 'cause God lovingly chose me to be the Momma to four living wonders—servants of His in a world gone crazy. I realize that we did something right in raising these boys. I'm reminded that they all need hugs too.


Sometimes a hug is all you need. 

Sometimes a hug is all I need.