I didn’t realise how much my arms would hurt when I became a mum.
 
It occurred to me first during Mass when my daughter was just a few weeks old. She was the kind of kid who could only sleep in someone’s arms. I desperately wanted her to stay quiet during the service, so I held the swaddled bundle in front of me like it was a bomb, not daring to move. By the homily, my arms were on fire.
 
I quickly realized this was a common scenario of my new life as a parent. Holding, rocking, bouncing, restraining, dragging — honestly, my weak little chicken-arms had never been worked out like this before. It took all my strength.
 
But isn’t that the way it is with everything that’s worthwhile? It takes all your strength. Not some of it. Not most of it. All of it.
 
I am a fairly active Catholic. My faith impacts a lot of areas of my life. But there are still boundaries that I’ve drawn around God. There are places I haven’t let Him in. Things I keep “for myself.” Experiences that are just so full of me, so full of my own plans and my own desires.
 
But God desires everything. Not because He is selfish, but because He is good, and wise. Because He knows that the places we keep from Him will become filled with something else. He wants to get there first. He wants to lay His claim.
 
He wants all our strength. All our heart. All our soul. All our mind. Not most of it. All of it.
 
Can we give it to Him?