I'm Here, Sweetheart

Sonya was playing with her blocks in the living room. She’s almost two now, and she’s getting the motor control to build her little Minas Tiriths impressively tall. As she was thus employed, I showed the effrontery to walk into the kitchen for eight seconds to get my coffee; and when our beautiful girl glanced up to find me gone, she objected in the most strenuous possible terms. And immediately, I called out the three most comforting words of all: “I’m here, sweetheart!”

I was reflecting later on this small, everyday occurrence, because I have a lot of time to reflect on things while my beloved begonia is running in circles at nigh-relativistic speeds, and something occurred to me. There’s a reason those words are so comforting—and there’s a reason there are three of them. Even the order in which we say them is condign. And before I begin, please let me clarify that the following is entirely serious; I’m not making jokes on a topic where joking would indeed be irreverent. I reverence not only the Fiery Dove, but language, His wingbeats in our intellect. If I indulge in wordplay, it’s because words are my blocks, and I’m trying to make a tower to show my Father.

Now, the first word: a fittingly diminutive adumbration of “I AM”—Jehovah, the Name of the Lord. In order to love you, I first need to be; and He is the ultimate self-existent from which all being flows. Second word: Incarnation. I do believe Sonya understands in the abstract that she’s a little girl who is very, very loved—but we need hugs. (Did you know that even warm, well-fed infants will literally die if they’re not held enough? You can even serve at the hospital as a volunteer cuddler.) Second Person of the Trinity doesn’t love us from the unthinkable empyrean—He is here, with us, in a specific place and time. That’s the entire point of being a Christian. And as for word #3: “sweetheart” is practically a coloring-book rendition of “Holy Spirit.”

So in short, when I tell Sonya “I’m here, sweetheart,” what I’m really doing is commending her to the care of the Blessed Trinity. No wonder it’s comforting. Obviously, she’s not conscious of all this theology, but after all, you don’t have to know someone’s praying for you for the prayers to be effective. And even more importantly, Sonya knows on some level that what I’m truly saying to her is three other words—and though I AM is the Name of the Father, “I love you” is the Name of the Triune God.