Kit (short for Kitten; my nickname for her on this blog) is two next month. Lately, she’s been coming to me with various “tummy aches.” A couple weeks ago, it was on her chin; last week, on her hand. This morning, she came to me with a new pain.
“Umma, have tummy ache.”
“You do, where?”
She limped to the couch, propped her foot up, and began patting it. “Here.”
Once I rubbed her “tummy ache” away, she was eager to play again and ran off.
A silly story but dear to me. It made me wonder how many times I go to my Father with a “tummy ache,” misdiagnosing my heart and pains, and how He kindly comforts me but also, like a good Physician, heals me where I’m truly broken.