Several nights ago I put Raychel down in her crib after a late night feeding. I believe she was still pretty awake and at that point she was not proficient in putting her self to sleep. We had to get up early the next morning to leave for our trip to Sandpoint so the whole family needed to get some good quality shut-eye. The nervous mother in me anticipated a fussing RJ, a tired husband and a fabulous headache the next day. As I laid down in bed, sure enough, I heard her start herself up. She wasn't in distress, just making some of those early fussing noises and I could tell that she was going to keep going right into Screamville.
So I prayed. God has put it on my heart, whenever she is crying and I know she is okay, to pray that she feels safe somehow and that she knows she is loved and protected. So I prayed this prayer as the monitor lit up with little coos and grunts. I asked God to help her drift to sleep, to let her know somehow that He's with her. I hardly noticed that her noises died down.
Relieved and, I admit, a little bit surprised, I started to go to sleep myself. Then I heard her wake again. So I prayed again. And again she gently drifted back to sleep on her own. In the middle of praying I would realize that she had stopped stirring. It was as though the very words themselves were floating into her room and filling it with God's presence. This process happened a few times and each time I was more relieved and less surprised until both of us fell asleep for the rest of the night. I entered slumber praying to our Father as he soothed both his baby Ray and his new-mommy daughter.
This was not a parting of the ocean or turning water into wine. I have no burning bush and I didn't hear the Voice of God, but I will build an altar here. Any mother will tell you that this was a meaningful miracle and I can tell you that I was in my Father's arms that night. And not only me, but the one person I am formed and commissioned to care for. I can't meet all of her needs, but Christ can. Everything in me wants to make everything in her completely cared for and the only way I can do that is by giving her back to the God who gave her to me.
Sometimes I wonder what weight my prayers have. I feel repetitive and dry as I tell God things I have told him before. But they mean something. Throughout the Bible people pray and the Lord answers. I get the impression that if they did not pray, God would not have acted as he did. Since God knows our thoughts I guess I assume that he doesn't need me to tell him what I need or want, but that seems to be a necessary part of this life... I can't give you a reason why - I can guess and I can assume, but at the end of the day I really don't know the mind of God. What I can say is that praying makes a difference. I have absolutely no doubt that had I not prayed, Raychel would have worked herself up and we would have had the night I was afraid of. And maybe, had I not prayed, RJ would not even be here... God listens and responds to his people.
What a bounty this child is already!
"Because he inclined his ear to me, therefore I will call on him as long as I live." (Psalm 116:2)
So I prayed. God has put it on my heart, whenever she is crying and I know she is okay, to pray that she feels safe somehow and that she knows she is loved and protected. So I prayed this prayer as the monitor lit up with little coos and grunts. I asked God to help her drift to sleep, to let her know somehow that He's with her. I hardly noticed that her noises died down.
Relieved and, I admit, a little bit surprised, I started to go to sleep myself. Then I heard her wake again. So I prayed again. And again she gently drifted back to sleep on her own. In the middle of praying I would realize that she had stopped stirring. It was as though the very words themselves were floating into her room and filling it with God's presence. This process happened a few times and each time I was more relieved and less surprised until both of us fell asleep for the rest of the night. I entered slumber praying to our Father as he soothed both his baby Ray and his new-mommy daughter.
This was not a parting of the ocean or turning water into wine. I have no burning bush and I didn't hear the Voice of God, but I will build an altar here. Any mother will tell you that this was a meaningful miracle and I can tell you that I was in my Father's arms that night. And not only me, but the one person I am formed and commissioned to care for. I can't meet all of her needs, but Christ can. Everything in me wants to make everything in her completely cared for and the only way I can do that is by giving her back to the God who gave her to me.
Sometimes I wonder what weight my prayers have. I feel repetitive and dry as I tell God things I have told him before. But they mean something. Throughout the Bible people pray and the Lord answers. I get the impression that if they did not pray, God would not have acted as he did. Since God knows our thoughts I guess I assume that he doesn't need me to tell him what I need or want, but that seems to be a necessary part of this life... I can't give you a reason why - I can guess and I can assume, but at the end of the day I really don't know the mind of God. What I can say is that praying makes a difference. I have absolutely no doubt that had I not prayed, Raychel would have worked herself up and we would have had the night I was afraid of. And maybe, had I not prayed, RJ would not even be here... God listens and responds to his people.
What a bounty this child is already!
"Because he inclined his ear to me, therefore I will call on him as long as I live." (Psalm 116:2)
Amen!
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