Not too long prior to becoming pregnant, I had struggled something fierce with feelings of unworthiness, inadequacy and self doubt. I felt unlovable, and as though I was a burden to all those who were most important to me. Losing the baby I so badly wanted only perpetuated those feelings. I wasn't suicidal in the sense that I had a plan, but the idea that I would be helping those I loved if I were dead was not far from my mind most days. I felt sure they would be better off without me. Happier. Less burdened. Free to move on and find something - someone - better than I was. It took a lot (A LOT!) of prayer and reflection and deep digging to overcome those things.
Fast forward to today, when I'm sitting here rocking our 6 month old little boy, whose love language is already very clearly an unquenchable physical need...For me. I have no doubt at all that God sent this precious gift to us, with this particular love for me, to show me my worth to my family. This little boy, who definitely loves his daddy, but who has only just recently began accepting his snuggles and care for more than 5 or 10 minutes at a time, shows me day in and day out that I really am needed, aand accepted as I am. I really am loved and valuable. I belive with everything in me that God sent me THIS little boy to address all those feelings and insecurities I experienced just prior to my miscarriage. But I think there's a bigger message I'm intended to pick up from mothering this sweet, cuddly,very attached little boy of ours;
Some days, it's really hard to mother this little boy. Not because he's anything less than perfect in my eyes, but because he wants to be held, by me, every second of every day. Occasionally I can squeak out a few minutes here and there alternating between his walker, playpen, tummy time and chair. The litany if tot gadgets we've collected to try to gain a few minutes hands-free is ridiculous, really. And none lasts long, before I'm back to struggling with even menial tasks all over again. I joke that we couldn't surgically remove him from my arms if we tried. But today, it's sinking in even more for me, that God intended him to be this way. My baby's stubborn need to be held by me all day is a 2-fold design that I'm supposed to be paying better attention to than I have been until recently.
One thing I'm learning from my son's need for me, is how I should be clinging to my Father in Heaven. I should be lifting my arms up to Him with the same stubborn tenacity my son does for me. There shouldn't be a moment I'm not seeking God's cradling, protective, loving arms. Not a moment I don't crave the spiritual embrace from God that I spend my day lavishing on my son. And not a movement I make without looking over my shoulder to be sure I'm making Him smile.
The other thing I'm learning is that just like I spend my day doting on, and caring for my son's every need, every cry, so does my God care for me in the same way. Every whimper, every emotional and spiritual bump or bruise...all I need do is cry out for Him, and He swoops in to rescue me. He's there, doting on me and seeing to my well being every second of every day.
Those are a couple of big revelations!
We're six months in with this precious boy, and although I've considered all of this before, I think it's just now beginning to sink in. It's only now, as I claw my way back onto the ledge I've been holding onto for dear life, that I realize it's God I should have been clinging onto instead. I've felt like I was absolutely losing it, drowning in the busy, the chaos, the to-dos, and literally sinking under the weight of it all. And I was...because I was clinging to the ledge instead of my life preserver. I read something recently that said our kids - the stubborn, the hard to handle, the full-of-attitude, the tiresome... all of them - are meant to be like a sandpaper to our souls. They are meant to be a helper to God, to refine and mold us into better versions of ourselves, and most importantly, to draw us closer to our God because we can't be what our kids need without Him. Those difficult kids (or difficult seasons) are meant to bring us to our knees and force us to raise our eyes up to Him. We are supposed to find the precipice through our stewardship of our children that shows us God is the light, the only way. And once we do that, and as we continue to do that even in our hardest moments, we begin to see and understand that there is a peace in our God that can't be found in anything but Him. No amount of completed to-do lists, no amount of quiet showers, trips alone to the bathroom or alone time could give us what we need in our day. Sure, we need to take time for ourselves and refill our tanks now and then. But when we allow our to-do lists, appointments, chores, yard work, and hobbies to take priority over the stewardships God gives us, or our relationship with Him, we will sink. It's just a matter of time.
I'm not saying my day got any easier having this all finally sink in. I still toted my clingy, momma-loving, cranky boy...all.day.long. My arms still got fatigued. That muscle near my shoulder blade began to tingle again. I still got almost ZERO accomplished today. So no, I won't say it was an easier day, re-realizing all of this. But I will say, it made all the difference to me. I see my purpose, my worth, my value. I see the direction my Father would have me go. I was allowed to see and understand a few "Whys". And I get it now. I get it.
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