Come Close

I was once asked, “If you came into your family room and Jesus was sitting on the sofa, where would you sit?”

I answered with silence, thinking it over…

“Would you climb into His lap?”

Needing more time, I asserted that if Jesus came to visit me in person, He wouldn’t be on the sofa, but would likely slip into the garden and sit on our bench.

“I believe I would sit at His feet.” That was my first thought. It seemed like a good option. I was thinking of Martha’s sister Mary in Luke 10:39. It’s where one would sit to receive wisdom from a revered teacher, to look up and wonder at their words. Plus, it suggests I intend to stay put and let everything else go.

After a couple of years, this question still makes its way into my thoughts. It’s been lingering, prodding me to reflect further. I accept many fell flat on their faces when they encountered the Lord (Luke 5:8, Revelation 1:17). Overcome with fear, or in worship, or in desperate supplication, they immediately fell down to acknowledge and yield to His holiness and power. Would climbing into Jesus lap even be an option? Would it be presumptuous or overly familiar?

This year, two things have shaped my thinking on this. In my morning walks along the trail and on bike rides at the beach during the summer, I found myself veering to move out of the way of vines growing out into the trail. They had what seemed to be unusually long tendrils, reaching out to seek a support. Tendrils like these find their supportive host by touch. Once a supportive host is located, chemical reactions cause them to curl and wrap around the support, creating a coil. As the coil ages it becomes woodier and provides a rigid, lasting support for the plant.

I took note of how well designed these tendrils are for clinging. They reach out and take hold with a grasp that permanently changes their form and character. This clinging allows them to receive what they need. If they don’t cling, they cannot carry out their role. These long, in-my-face tendrils were a prompt to consider God’s design for us. Our need can only be satisfied in the One who is our Deliverer and Sustainer (Psalm 18:2, Isaiah 46:4). As we reach out to Him, He is the One who takes our hand and secures us in His hold, so that we won’t slip or stumble (Psalm 63:8). He says cling to Him alone (Joshua 23:8). The tighter and longer we hold on, the more we are transformed into His likeness. In truth, we can do nothing without Him.

I am the vine; you are the branches. If you remain in me and I in you, you will bear much fruit; apart from Me you can do nothing.

John 15:5

Also influencing my thinking is Genesis 45, which tells how Joseph reveals himself to his brothers. After hearing that this powerful ruler is Joseph, the brothers are terrified because they’ve been exposed. Joseph is quite alive! In verse 4, he says to them, “Come close to me.” After all the evil they had done to him, he calls them near. He wants them to draw near. Calling them close signifies relationship – they are His brothers (Genesis 45:4). It expresses forgiveness – he holds no malice. As they draw close, Joseph desires to alleviate their distress by pointing out that God Himself sent him before them to Egypt to preserve life (Gen. 45:5-8). In this intimate conversation, Joseph demonstrates his power and desire to bless them (Gen. 45:10-11). His love for them creates a safe place for them to draw near (Gen. 45:14-15).

Joseph’s love is a good model of Christ’s love for me, for us. In His tenderness, Jesus asks us to draw near. He wants us near Him, close like a child, close enough for intimate directness, so we can hear and understand. We can draw close because it’s safe. Just as with Joseph, the Lord’s power is used to save His loved ones and give life. Like Joseph, Christ has gone ahead of us to bring about a great deliverance. He says He will provide; He says don’t be afraid. Come close, don’t tarry (Genesis 45:9).

If sitting at His feet suggests the posture of an eager hearer, and falling at His feet is a posture of fearful reverence, what would climbing into His lap suggest? I believe it would express a childlike abandon of absolute trust and a sheer joy and delight in seeing Him. I think it would also indicate a close, intimate relationship already exists. As I look forward to seeing Him with my own eyes, I yearn for this kind of faith.

“O Lord, help us grow in our trust of You, so that like those in-your-face tendrils along the path, we reach out with joyful abandon. May we not hold back, but even now come close. Hold us tight, keep us secure in Your hold as we cling to You, that we may be forever changed.”

This refrain from an old hymn comes to mind. Tarry a few minutes to listen and enjoy.

I will arise and go to Jesus,

He will embrace me in His arms;

In the arms of my dear Savior,

Oh, there are ten thousand charms.

Joseph Hart 1759

I’m excited to let you know my resource page is underway! You can find it here or in the drop down Menu by selecting In the Tool Shed. I started with some of my favorite books in the Walk of Faith and Gardening sections. I’ll add a Destination/Events section and continue to update. Let me know you if you have suggestions!

Hello world!

Two of our children sometimes volley openly for status of “favorite child.” Of course we deny any suggestions that such a position is obtainable, but that hasn’t yet deterred anyone’s fun in claiming it. Yet at our house this spring, we’ve developed a certain affinity toward one of our backyard birds. The Carolina Wren has definitely become the favorite! They have been our close companions during these stay at home times. Watching them is so entertaining! They’re loaded with personality, and their song … well, it’s so cheering.

The wrens built a nest in one of our hanging plants, a pink geranium just off the patio.  I suspected the nest was there, and discovered it one day when I took it down for watering. It was a burrowed-out cavity down in the dirt and had lots of eggs. I’d say at least six. They were small and had little brown speckles. I hung the plant back up, leaving it alone now except for light watering, and we watched and waited for the eggs to hatch. We knew when it happened by the non-stop trips back and forth bringing insects to the nest. After a while we could hear sounds coming from the nest as well. Sometimes it was the female responding to the male supplying food, and sometimes it was the baby birds.

 One morning I went out and, to my amazement, there was a fledgling sitting out in plain sight on one of the branches of the geranium. It was staring right at me. I was stunned. Something was wrong here! This little bird was ugly! I mean really ugly! I was expecting something tiny with a lot of down, a short tail, maybe some disproportion, but cute, or at least cute-ish. But what I saw… well, for one this bird was baldheaded with a totally naked head. Second, it was as big as the parent wrens but broader. Its beak looked prehistoric. Not only that, there was some attitude. It had a pompous expression as if to say, “I came out of this nest all by myself. I’m really grand. I do believe I rule the roost. Bring me some food!” After a bit we realized a second fledgling had emerged from the nest and was down in the foliage jumping around practicing its moves. The first one stayed put on that same branch and moved only when a parent wren appeared with food, doing all it could to nab a tasty morsel before it was fed to someone down in the recesses of the plant.

We were mesmerized. It was like when you see something really tragic or shockingly offensive, and you can’t tear your eyes away. Then the truth began to sink in — this was not a baby wren! It was a cowbird fledgling! A pair of brown-headed cowbirds had been at our feeder off and on and I remembered that they lay their eggs in other birds’ nests. Now I felt worse. Here was this huge fledgling who looked larger than its parents, perched there looking so self-important; all the while it was totally dependent on the work of the smaller, very industrious wrens. I have read about this and I know it occurs, but I didn’t like that it occurred right here with my favorite bird. And by day two, we were wondering: where are the other fledglings, the baby wrens? Why aren’t we seeing them? Have these two cowbirds prevented their feeding? I was troubled and offended by this backyard drama, trying to make sense of the seeming injustice of it.

And just like a fluttering of wings, another truth glided in and settled over me, as these familiar words spoke a gentle reminder to my heart:

Nothing in my hands I bring,

Simply to the cross I cling;

Naked come to Thee for dress,

Helpless look to Thee for grace;

Foul I to the fountain fly,

Wash me, Savior, or I die.

Rock of Ages, by Augustus Toplady

My child, you are like this fledgling – ugly, exposed, weak, helpless, and totally dependent.  Your feathers get ruffled and your mouth can be way too big. You get puffed up, and tend to focus on your own needs instead of those of others I’ve placed around you. You know how to bring offense.

Don’t be troubled. I love you with an everlasting love. You already know first-hand the love of an adoptive parent. And I have adopted you, knowing you were ugly, naked, and offensive, and brought you permanently into my family. I have rescued you and will forever protect you and provide for you. I will guide you. My grace is sufficient in your weakness; my work has secured your pardon. I will clothe you with my righteousness, a robe of white to cover your nakedness… are you still concerned about drama and injustice?

No, Lord, I’m not concerned about that anymore.

Thank you, Lord. Thank you for this tender reminder. I think it was a rebuke? But it felt so good. Thank you for supplying the fountain to which I fly. Thank you for your grace and your patience. Thank you for opening my eyes to see you, for adopting me, and providing for every need. Thank you, Holy Spirit, for speaking into my heart today.

The wrens fledged their two cowbirds, and after a week or so settled into their empty nester role. I’ve been learning their songs, the male being the most vocal, and can pick them out among other calls. They don’t migrate; they mate for life, so hopefully we’ll enjoy them for some years to come. Their sight and song will prompt a heart celebration of the gentle reminder I received. The cowbirds? I no longer feel the disdain I had, but am drawn to them now, as usually happens with those in whom we have much in common. I appreciate that they are bold in their neediness and so seemingly unaware of anything but the good gifts brought to them by adoptive parents.

Mom wren

How about you? Are you anything like me and the fledgling cowbirds? Let us reach out in grace to one another with encouragement to receive the Lord’s sacrifice that brings us life, and as we know Him better and better learn to rest in His steadfast love.


The title of this post, “Hello World!” seemed appropriate for both this fledgling and for me. This is my first post as I launch tarrythere.com, so now I’m a fledgling blogger! To learn more about my blog, about me, or about our Creator, select the About drop down in the sidebar. Thank you for visiting. I’d love to hear from you!

“Adoption is the highest privilege of the gospel. The traitor is forgiven, brought in for supper, and given the family name. To be right with God the Judge is a great thing, but to be loved and cared for by God the Father is greater.”

J. I. Packer (1926-2020)