Mat 18:4  Whosoever therefore shall humble himself as this little child, the same is greatest in the kingdom of heaven. 
     It is very sweet just to nestle down in the bosom of Christ... 
To be     as a little child with Him. 
Those who come otherwise do not get near      to Him...
But the child-like always find a close place in His heart. 
So
 the      more like children we can be in our trust and in the 
simplicity of our      faith, in humbleness of disposition, in 
willingness to do His will and to      learn of Him the nearer to Him 
shall we get, and the more shall we enjoy      of His love. 
     
     Some years ago, as I was passing along one of our streets one 
afternoon, I      heard a fluttering of birds over my head and, looking 
up, saw a little bird      flying wildly about in circles, chased by a 
hawk! 
The bird flew down lower      
and lower, and then darted into my bosom, under my coat. 
I cannot quite 
     express to you, the feeling which filled my heart at that 
moment...that a      little bird, chased by an enemy, had come to me for
 refuge, trusting      me in time of danger.
 I laid my hand over the bird, which nestled as      quietly and 
confidently under my coat, as a baby would in a mother's bosom. 
I 
carried the little thing along for several blocks until I thought the 
way      was clear of danger, and then let it out.  
It flew away into the air again,      but showed no fear of me.
 Ever since that experience, I have understood      better what it is to fly into the bosom of Christ      for refuge and safety in time of danger, or in time of      distress. 
     
     All this helps me to understand better what it means to Jesus when      we, hunted and chased by enemies, or suffering from weakness or pain...fly      to Him and hide ourselves in His love.
     
That
 is all we need to do...just to creep into the bosom of Christ, and lie 
     down there, with no fear, no anxiety, but with simple trust.
     
     The lines of Wesley's old hymn have meant more ever since:
     
Jesus, lover of my soul, Let me to Thy bosom fly, While the nearer waters roll, While the tempest still is high.
     
     Hide me, O my Savior, hide,Till the storm of life is past; Safe into the haven guide; Oh, receive my soul at last.
     
Other refuge have I none, Hangs my helpless soul on Thee; Leave, ah! leave me not alone, Still support and comfort me.
     
     All my trust on Thee is stayed, All my help from Thee I bring...
Cover my defenseless head With the shadow of Thy wing.
~J. R.  Miller~

 
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