What is it I really want? What is it I think I really need?
I thought I knew. The prayers of “if I could just have a baby…” And here I am; the warm curl of a ten pound infant against my chest. This is what I wanted. This is what I thought I needed. These wee-morning moments. I sit on the rocking chair with child, tummy tight with fresh formula. I feel her discomfort and reposition her just below my collar bone and rock and rock. These wee morning moments are my schooling hours. I learn in the light of the rising sun that I am no more than this infant wanting to held and comforted by the risen Son; curled against His chest; my head resting on His shoulder. She fights. Her head banging against my collar bone, twisting side to side, grunting and trying to find that comfortable place. I do the same. She is in my arms. And aren’t I in His? I close my eyes and see.
He wraps His arms around me and I around her. I caress her cheek and whisper “Shhhh.” And I hear Him do the same. And I quiet for a moment, we quiet for a moment. Lay our heads back down and rest.
New light. That is what I want. To be wrapped in the arms of my loving Father and to feel warm, protected, and safe enough to fall asleep – my grunting quieting to deep breaths, full breath, life-giving breath.
I lay the child down in her crib. She flails, kicks, and grunts. I see myself in her. Am I not flailing, kicking, grunting? I am standing right above her, watching, ready to grab her and hold her tight if she doesn’t soothe to deep sleep. I lay a hand on her chest, a hand on her head. The arms slow. The legs loosen. The fists uncurl. Breath. Slow and deep. First her and then me. I’ve been holding mine.
The child quiets, soothes to sleep—trusting that when she wakes, she will be comforted, fed, loved. If this is what I do for the child, then how much more does the Creator of the universe do for me?
I turn to leave her, to tend to the day. The gym, the shower, the job, the tasks. This is where I stop and God starts. He doesn’t leave us. He doesn’t close the door and tip-tip-toe away. He is there: in the gym, in the shower, in the job, in the tasks.
I rub my eyes to clear the sleep and I open them again. I’m starting to see.
This little one, just 10 weeks in this great big world, teaches me the profound: we are all infants. And I know all too well: I don’t trust like an infant. I have half the faith but all the helpless of my daughter so sweet.
I am a slow learner and God is so patient.
It’s taken 30-some years to get it—to get what it means to have faith like a child…and the lesson is sweet.
By Emily W.
Photo by: Tamaki SonoLeave a Comment
Amy Hunt says
Keep writing, girl! While this mothering role is still so fresh and your emotions still so raw. He has so much for you to *See* in this process of adjusting to this newness…so much of His heart He wants you to know more fully. It’s an amazing gift–how we think having a child is about parenting and giving, and yet it’s about Him fathering us and growing us. How He uses a child…it’s incredible.
Praying you rich blessings as He continues to speak to your heart through the child that He’s grown in you.
Brittnie (A Joy Renewed) says
I really like how you said “it’s about Him fathering us and growing us.” Love that!
Julia, Somerset, NJ says
Isn’t it just amazing how something so small can have so much meaning and can teach us so much? My teachers are 5 and 5 months. Welcome to this journey!
I think you’re right about relaxing into God’s grace. We think that we have some role or control over what we want and need. Thanks for your insight into being a child of God.
This is beautiful, Emily. Keep your heart open to His teachings. Believe it or not, one day your daughter may speak words of wisdom directly to you, from God’s own heart. I have had the experience of hearing the wisdom of a child, from their innocent faith and belief, speak straight to my heart. Motherhood is an amazing journey. We are always learning.
Del Marie says
Being a mother is the most precious gift God can ever give us. My babies are now 14 and 20. I thank God for allowing me the privilege of this continuing journey. As I read your words, I yearn to be held in His arms, to lay my head upon his chest, to feel his touch against my cheek. If I’m still enough, I can feel it. Oh how glorious, to be a daughter of Christ.
Del Marie says
Being a mother is the most precious gift God can ever give us. My babies are now 14 and 20. I thank God for allowing me the privilege of this continuing journey. As I read your words, I yearn to be held in His arms, to lay my head upon his chest, to feel his touch against my cheek. If I’m still enough, I can feel it. Oh how glorious, to be a daughter of Christ!
This is so very beautiful! Thank you for sharing this precious reminder!
Dana Butler says
So, so true! You are a precious mama. 🙂 Congrats on your sweet girl…. love these lessons that God teaches us through our kiddos…. they never stop coming if we keep our ears open. 🙂 Thanks for sharing this!!