Today I’m honored to be guest posting over at (in)courage. You can read the whole post here, but here’s a little preview for you:
I tickle my baby girl’s tummy as I close up a fresh diaper, gently guiding her tiny toes into her blue footie pajamas and narrating as she she grows impatient: “one, two, three snaps!” I zip her into her SleepSack and swaddle her arms in, leaving her hands by her face; she loves to suck her first two fingers. She always wakes smelling of dreams and baby spit, and I breathe her in now, kissing her soft cheeks as she starts to whimper because she knows it’s time for a nap.
I gather her into my arms, her head resting on the crook of my elbow, and she twists away, crying now, trying to break free. I pat her back and begin to sing, and by the second verse her eyelids are heavy, closing and opening slowly, her lips quivering with one final protest before she’s asleep.
As I lay her down in a crib that still seems too big for her, my heart breaks at the thought of leaving her alone in the dark. I lay a hand on her belly and whisper, “Sweet dreams, my brave girl. I love you.”
I chose these words carefully, the ones I whisper each time I lay her down to sleep. These words have become a mantra of sorts, a reminder for me and an exhortation for her. Someday, these words will become a beloved memory, the stuff of “remember when, Mommy?”
As I tiptoe out of her room, making sure the click of the door closing is as quiet as possible, I’m reminded of the Lord’s heart toward me:
He will take delight in you with gladness. With his love, he will calm all your fears. He will rejoice over you with joyful songs.”
—Zephaniah 3:17, NLT
I didn’t understand this maternal heart of God until I became a mother myself. How could God, so mighty and strong, delight just to look at me and find joy in singing over me?
You can read the rest of this post over at (in)courage!
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