I was Christmas shopping at the mall with my boyfriend and my daughter—the kind of outing that feels festive and exhausting all at once.
I was not at my best.
I had a cold. I was run down. Fatigued in a way where your soul needs a nap, not just your body. All I wanted in that moment was hot peppermint tea and mercy.
So we stopped at a Coffee Bar and ordered.
As we waited, I turned to my boyfriend and said, “I’ve basically felt like a sloth all week.”
Without hesitation, he laughed and said I was his little sloth, opened his arms, and pulled me in for a big, warm hug. The kind that makes your nervous system exhale.
And because I was fully committed to the bit, I wrapped one leg around him—sloth-style—like I was clinging to a tree branch for dear life.
We cracked up.
A man walking by stopped and stared. Like really stared. Which made us laugh even harder. My boyfriend joked that the guy probably wasn’t used to seeing that much affection—and honestly, there was a look of longing on his face that stuck with me.
At the time, it was just a funny moment. One of those unscripted flashes of joy you don’t plan for.
But God had plans.
Later that night, I sat down to do my devotion, and the topic was union with God.
The exercise was simple:
Place your palms together. This represents intimacy.
Now, intertwine your fingers. This represents union.
And instantly, my mind went back to the mall.
The hug earlier that day? That was intimacy. Close. Warm. Comforting.
But when I wrapped my leg around my boyfriend—when I clung—that was something more. That was union. Not in a sexual way. Just connection. Integration. Two becoming linked instead of merely touching.
And suddenly, I realized…
That’s what I want with God.
I don’t just want moments of closeness.
I don’t want drive-by prayers or once-in-a-while spiritual hugs.
I want union.
I want to intertwine my life with Him.
I want to cling.
I want to be the little sloth wrapped so tightly around the tree that separation doesn’t even make sense.
His Spirit in me.
Me holding onto Him.
God in me, and I in Him.
Because life apart from God? That’s a barren wilderness. Dry. Exhausting. Performative. I’ve lived there. I know that terrain well.
But abiding? Remaining? Union?
That’s where life flows.
Jesus said, “I am the vine; you are the branches.”
Branches don’t visit the vine.
They don’t check in occasionally.
They stay connected—or they wither.
I don’t want to visit God anymore.
I want to abide.
I want to know Him deeply. Live integrated. Become one. Not striving, not grasping, not white-knuckling my way through life—but clinging in trust.
Like a sloth on a tree.
Held. Supported. At rest.
And maybe the healing we’re all longing for isn’t found in trying harder…
but in holding closer.
-Samantha
