Little Boy and I both fell down the stairs today. We were walking to the kitchen from his room; he had just woken from his afternoon nap. We were talking, the moment was light, then my socks slipped and I went down from stair to stair to stair, hot pain in my back. Little Boy was holding my hand, and I have no idea what happened to him, but I turned around only to see him face first on the bottom two stairs, sobbing his eyes out.
My back was aching, stabbing pain just starting to throb, and I can feel my lower back heating up as all the blood rushed to the place of impact, and the truth is it was so painful I wanted to just sit there at the foot of the stairs, sit there and cry, sit there and wonder where my mother is, where Husband is, where someone is who can take care of me. But I couldn’t because just behind me is a two-year-old who is screaming in pain and shock and has no idea what just happened to him. So I will myself not to cry, reach out to him, make sure he’s not bleeding or seriously injured, pick him up and hobble to our glider, where I sat down and prayed while Little Boy cried in my arms.
These are my most difficult moments in parenting, the moments when I so desperately need care but there is no one to care for me, and on top of that, I have to find it in me to care for my vulnerable, needy child.
And these are the moments where I am drawn closer to and deeper in to the heart of God.
Because as I sit there in pain comforting my son but needing something myself, I can hear his voice, I’m here. I am carrying you.
This has been my story day after day, moment by moment.
When Little Boy was only two or three months, I went to something that should have been a beautiful moment in my life, something special, sacred, exciting where I should have left feeling loved and affirmed, but something happened at the hands of another woman. Words were said, and I left instead with pain etched in my heart. I tried to process with Husband that night, exhausted he fell asleep in the middle of what I was saying, and I lay there and thought, I have no one.
Little Boy woke up between 4 and 5am, and I sat on the red couch in our office, watching the shadows of a sunrise in the sky behind the Jura mountain, and I remember pouring my heart out to God, holding my tattered blue Bible in my hands, trying to hold on to something that would tell me everything would be alright.
And the morning brought me word of his unfailing love. I am with you, you are not alone. People fail you, but I have never failed you.
There were the days of reasoning with a baby, of trying to explain to him why it wasn’t bath time yet, how I was setting the water temperature, making sure the level was right, so it would be a perfect bath for him, a concept he could not understand because he could not wait.
And sitting on the toilet next to the bathtub watching him splash and play, his little desires fulfilled, I hear His voice, Five minutes. Wait a little bit longer. I have not left you. I am with you. Wait a little bit longer.
When I wake at 11:30pm, 1:30am, at 5:30am to feed a crying baby, when sleep is impossible to come by, when I am exhausted out of my mind, there he is. I never sleep, I am awake before you are. I wake first, Devi. I don’t need to sleep because I am strong, and I am holding you and caring for you.
For the days when I am dry with no more love to give, no more energy to spend, and my will wants to only choose my way, I have power, and I give you power to do what you can’t do, know what you wouldn’t know and feel what you couldn’t feel without me*.
Babies and children are the most needy creatures I’ve ever encountered. I love that my sons turn to me moment by moment to meet my needs because it tells me that there is trust in our relationship. But let’s just say that their neediness has led to a deep neediness of my own.
I have never needed more love, affirmation, respect, time, pampering, you name it, I need it, and truly there is no one in the world who is able to meet the depths of my needs, and believe me I have tried to
coerce, manipulate find a person or people who could fit this bill.
For every need and want, for every moment of can’t-do-it-anymore, for every desire and dream, I have stood at the foot of a cross where blood runs red and grace flows free, and I have found my peace, my answers, my hope and my home.
I found it in Jesus, the one who loved me with an unfailing love, the one who created my inmost being, the one who paid it all so that I could be free, the one who parents me moment by moment, the one who gives me everything I need, the one who allows me to experience hard things so that I have no option but his strength.
I don’t know who you are, how you found this blog or what you are dealing with today, but I can promise you this – there is answer far better than you could ever imagine, there is a promise greater than anything you can dream, and there is someone who knows you more deeply than you can know yourself. There are needs in your soul that only he can fulfill.
Talk to him.
You will receive.
*From Beth Moore’s study, “Living Beyond Yourself.”
This post is Day 14 of 31 Days of blogging in October. I am writing this month about my first season of motherhood, sharing stories and lessons that stayed with me from that time.
(New to this series? Start here and follow the links to each day’s post.)