Every Good Thing
You know when I sit down and when I rise up;
You discern my thoughts from afar.
(Psalm 139:2)
- - -
Our sweet girl arrived in mid-November, turning us officially into a family of three. We are smitten!
Our days have certainly changed - but at this stage, the changing of the nights is what has impacted me the most. Such power, in such a little person... she determines when we wake, when we sleep, and how much time is spent suspended somewhere in between. No matter how many people "alerted" us about this reality, experience is yet again the best teacher. No one could have prepared me for the way my pulse would jump to match the pitch of her cries... or how my world would narrow into focus every time she stirs in the darkness.
In those moments when she cries, to soothe becomes my entire mission in life. To offer rest to another, at the direct expense of my own. I am grateful for the simplicity of this calling. Even the tremendous challenge of it seems fitting somehow - even when my body revolts from the lack of sleep, my heart is anchored again each time I look at the sweetness of her face.
- - -
Yes... this calling, even the challenge of it, is bliss unlike any other I've known. And I'm learning. Just arrived, and she is already teaching us about herself, each other, and the Lord. People alerted us about this too... and yet. No one - no book, no blog, no expert could have prepared me.
When she grips my finger with her hand, I feel unequivocally set apart. When I can't discern what she needs, I feel bereft as if I were the one in need. When I successfully mollify, I feel like a champion. She makes me feel whole... and she makes me acutely aware of all I lack.
If marriage is a spotlight shining into the once shadowed spaces, parenthood is a magnifying glass... for the light passes through her, searing pieces of our surface and setting them aflame. She has deepened my loves in a way I can't understand... she has deepened it between me and Tim, between me and the Lord.
But as beautiful and miraculous as she is, the quality of her that impacts me eternally is that she is - by her very existence - a tangible expression of the Lord's faithfulness. He is the Giver of every good and perfect thing, and we are humbled by His joy and delight in bringing us this gift... this daughter we can call our own.
This lovely, snuggly, sweet-baby-smelling, pink, kissable, petite little bundle of everything good and pure and precious.
In the moments when the reality of sleep-deprivation brings me to tears, or to my knees, or to the edge of some temporary, maternal form of insanity (or to all three at the same time)... I understand that the way she cries for me in total dependence is the way I cry out to my Father each and every day. In the day, in the night, in the suspension hours between them... He sees when I sit and when I rise. He doesn't sleep. He doesn't turn away.
- - -
For this fleeting season, she is entirely dependent on me and Tim. Her needs are basic, and vital. But already, every day she grows bigger and stronger - and although I can't feel the time passing, she is growing a little less dependent on me every minute.
But I will always need my Father... and for this brief window of time, He has allowed me to experience these things. This total dependency, and what it looks and feels like. And also, what it feels like to respond.
The way He responds to me, each time I call out in the night... except His response is even more unconditional, timely, and perfect. He is the ultimate Father. All these things, I knew and have known... but she is deepening our understanding. Everyone tried to tell us this would happen - but no one could have prepared us. No one can ever prepare to be fully undone by love.
The way we have been by her. She is lovely, and we are smitten. In the best and dearest of ways... by her arrival, yes - we have been undone. And by her arrival, the Lord is re-making us aware of who He is.
The Giver of every good thing.
You discern my thoughts from afar.
(Psalm 139:2)
- - -
Our sweet girl arrived in mid-November, turning us officially into a family of three. We are smitten!
Our days have certainly changed - but at this stage, the changing of the nights is what has impacted me the most. Such power, in such a little person... she determines when we wake, when we sleep, and how much time is spent suspended somewhere in between. No matter how many people "alerted" us about this reality, experience is yet again the best teacher. No one could have prepared me for the way my pulse would jump to match the pitch of her cries... or how my world would narrow into focus every time she stirs in the darkness.
In those moments when she cries, to soothe becomes my entire mission in life. To offer rest to another, at the direct expense of my own. I am grateful for the simplicity of this calling. Even the tremendous challenge of it seems fitting somehow - even when my body revolts from the lack of sleep, my heart is anchored again each time I look at the sweetness of her face.
- - -
Yes... this calling, even the challenge of it, is bliss unlike any other I've known. And I'm learning. Just arrived, and she is already teaching us about herself, each other, and the Lord. People alerted us about this too... and yet. No one - no book, no blog, no expert could have prepared me.
When she grips my finger with her hand, I feel unequivocally set apart. When I can't discern what she needs, I feel bereft as if I were the one in need. When I successfully mollify, I feel like a champion. She makes me feel whole... and she makes me acutely aware of all I lack.
If marriage is a spotlight shining into the once shadowed spaces, parenthood is a magnifying glass... for the light passes through her, searing pieces of our surface and setting them aflame. She has deepened my loves in a way I can't understand... she has deepened it between me and Tim, between me and the Lord.
But as beautiful and miraculous as she is, the quality of her that impacts me eternally is that she is - by her very existence - a tangible expression of the Lord's faithfulness. He is the Giver of every good and perfect thing, and we are humbled by His joy and delight in bringing us this gift... this daughter we can call our own.
This lovely, snuggly, sweet-baby-smelling, pink, kissable, petite little bundle of everything good and pure and precious.
In the moments when the reality of sleep-deprivation brings me to tears, or to my knees, or to the edge of some temporary, maternal form of insanity (or to all three at the same time)... I understand that the way she cries for me in total dependence is the way I cry out to my Father each and every day. In the day, in the night, in the suspension hours between them... He sees when I sit and when I rise. He doesn't sleep. He doesn't turn away.
- - -
For this fleeting season, she is entirely dependent on me and Tim. Her needs are basic, and vital. But already, every day she grows bigger and stronger - and although I can't feel the time passing, she is growing a little less dependent on me every minute.
But I will always need my Father... and for this brief window of time, He has allowed me to experience these things. This total dependency, and what it looks and feels like. And also, what it feels like to respond.
The way He responds to me, each time I call out in the night... except His response is even more unconditional, timely, and perfect. He is the ultimate Father. All these things, I knew and have known... but she is deepening our understanding. Everyone tried to tell us this would happen - but no one could have prepared us. No one can ever prepare to be fully undone by love.
The way we have been by her. She is lovely, and we are smitten. In the best and dearest of ways... by her arrival, yes - we have been undone. And by her arrival, the Lord is re-making us aware of who He is.
The Giver of every good thing.
Comments
Post a Comment