Mid-night Hours

With my first baby, getting up in the middle of the night was a torture my pampered, 20-year old self barely endured – sometimes bravely, most times not. Each mid-night cry would produce an agonizing, sinking feeling that I would never sleep through the night again – ever! With baby number 2 it wasn’t much different after the first four months (in which I cherished the quiet of the night with my little one). After about four months, though, it was pity-party double strength because it was clear this baby was not going to let the night hours go by without getting up at least two or three times. Then months and years passed and as they did so did all my theories about parenting (i.e. my children will never pitch a fit like THAT in public). I thought I knew everything when I began parenting, but it didn’t take (too) long before I realized that what I really knew was a bunch of nothing. Nothing at all. And that is humbling. I began parenting with the idea I could conquer the world, not understanding that it was I who needed to be conquered, who needed to learn to think objectively, to pray about everything, to take a deep breathe and be patient (after all, I had kids, not college graduates), to give in and embrace the beauty of selflessness that motherhood bestows on those willing. Then I had my third baby. And I found myself not dreading the night feeds, but expecting them instead; and not stressing about whether or not my baby might puke on his best church outfit or cry in the store or not smile at someone, but instead I simply enjoyed him, whether in the middle of the night or not. I don’t necessarily spring out of bed singing like Mary Poppins whenever the baby cries at 2am, but I do take a deep breath, leave my bed behind, accept the fact that I am getting up… without having a poor-pitiful-me party. I can’t thank God enough for three kids who are sharpening me and unknowingly shaping my character into something God finds beautiful and precious.

James 1:4
But let patience have its perfect work, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking nothing.