Reassurance comes in various forms depending on the situation.  In our house it might wrap around me with a knitted afghan when I need a comfortable snuggle. It might find me as I pull the refrigerator door, pausing to notice a particular magnet I bought on a family vacation.  It might surprise me as I pick up pictures of loved ones while pushing away the dust beneath them.  It might stir my soul as I page through an inspiring book looking for encouragement.  It might trigger my husband’s sense of fulfillment as he slathers peanut butter and honey on a 12 grain piece of bread!

This morning Dusty is declaring his need for assurance by claiming a spot by my side, pressed in as close as possible, trying to tuck himself tightly against me.  Usually he provides some simple supportive care when he senses that one of us feels sad or ill.  However, it’s his turn now, having ingested unknown culprits on his first trip outside; his stomach revolted against him, forcing him to retch the contents in a lump on our kitchen floor.  After cleaning up the mess, I gathered him in my arms, and found a spot on the family room couch.  Since then, Dusty hasn’t budged from his place of reassuring relief.

Thankfully I could pull my laptop within reach and type this message without disturbing him.  As I moderate my movements to a slow and silent pace, I find I am responding as if I were one of his tennis balls that had just rolled in, coming to a stop, resting peacefully.

This morning I am here for Dusty, offering reassurance simply by my presence.