Jesus in My Arms: Grace Beyond Worthiness

This morning, my friend Mark, shared a beautiful meditation that completely re-centered me. 

It was simple but so vivid: "Can you imagine the Lil Baby Sacred Heart beating in His sweet little chest?" Just those words invited me into something more tender, more intimate than I had let myself ponder in a long time. 

A real baby.  Our God as a child, fragile and small enough to be held.

I tried to imagine it. I really did. As a mom of four grown-up girls, I can still remember the feeling of holding a baby in my arms.

What a beautiful thought. The baby Jesus, His tiny breath, the rhythm of His little Heart pressed against mine. That feeling of being trusted with something so Perfect. Something so full of Love itself. 

And almost instantly—I pulled away. 

Not because I didn’t want to be close. I did. So much. 

But because something inside whispered, “You are not worthy.” And honestly? That felt true. I’m not. 

I thought, "How could I be the one to hold Jesus as a child? Only our Mother Mary is worthy of that." (Image: Baby Jesus in the arms of Mary – Wikimedia Commons)

Only her arms are pure enough to cradle the Lord of the universe, small and trusting.

But then my friend, Mark, wise and filled with the kind of truth that startles you awake, gently reminded me: “You receive Him in Holy Communion. No one is worthy. But it’s His worthiness and His desire to hold and be held by us. How would you be a Temple or indwelling for the Holy Trinity if you won't keep Him close to you at all stages and moments of His existence?”

And just like that, it hit me. 

I don’t carry Him because I am worthy. I carry Him because He chose me.

He chose us. All of us. 

Not because we are perfect or pure or always ready, but because He is. And He wants to be near. To be held. Not just in churches or stained-glass light, but in the quiet morning moments. In the arms of the tired, the unworthy, the unsure.

And so I let the image come back, this time without pushing it away. Baby Jesus with His Little Sacred Heart beating, completely trusting. Not because I earned it. But because He gives Himself freely. 

I didn’t feel shame anymore. I felt awe. The kind of awe that melts into tears and expands your chest with something like love, but deeper. 

That’s grace. 

He doesn’t wait until we are spotless to come near. He comes close to make us holy. To transform our
unworthiness into communion. To turn cold mornings into warm ones just by being held.

So today, I’m holding Baby Jesus. I’m letting Him rest in my arms and in my heart and in the sacred ordinariness of my life. 

He’s not asking me to be worthy. Just open.  And that, I think, is the beginning of everything.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡     (Image: Sleeping Baby Jesus  – Wikimedia Commons)     ♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡ 

Dearest Jesus,

Sometimes I forget how close You really want to be. You came so small, so quiet, just to be near us.

And even when I feel unworthy or unsure, You still want to be held.

So today, just like our Mother's Fiat, I just want to say yes.

Yes to holding You in the simple, ordinary parts of my day. Yes to letting Your love fill the places I keep guarded. Yes to grace—even when I don’t feel like I deserve it.

Help me remember that You don’t ask for perfection. You just ask for an open heart.

So here I am—holding You close, and letting You hold me, too.

Amen.