Father Knows Best

It seems that napping and bedtime are cyclical patterns in our home.  For the most part, Ellie has always been a pretty consistent sleeper, but in recent months – she’s developed these patterns of sleep where she’ll pass out immediately without a peep for a few weeks, and then she’ll go through a season of fighting sleep where she cries and gets herself completely worked up.  Sometimes, her outbursts are due to a dirty diaper, a nightmare, teething, or being sick.  But typically, I have to just let her cry it out.

This part is a killer for me, and any mom, I’m sure.  There has never been a point in my daughter’s life where the sound of her cries hasn’t pierced me like a knife.  Call me a softie, or tenderhearted.  I always try to do what’s best for her regardless of how I “feel”-but doing what’s best for her is one of the toughest things I’ve ever had to do.

Doesn’t that sound strange?  You would think that doing the right for your child would be a no-brainer.  Of course, you always want what’s best for them-but actually following through in some situations can be more difficult that I ever anticipated.  I’ve been surprised time and time again at this notion. 

As I laid Ellie down for her nap today-it was another fighting day. 

If I time her nap just right – right before she gets overtired, she lays right down.  Lately-she’s been an expert in disguising her drowsiness.  I wait a little too long, and then we have the battle that ensued today.  I lay her down…she cries hysterically (my heart breaking), I wait patiently for her to calm down, and then she finally falls asleep.  This whole process only takes about 12 minutes, but it feels like an eternity. 

Occasionally, I will go in to soothe her and calm her down, which seems to help sometimes.  Of course, I hear a little voice inside saying “you’re just reinforcing that if she cried, you’ll come”.  But I quickly stifle that voice and reflect on the words of my pediatrician “sometimes, crying is the only way she can tell you she needs you.  It’s okay to go in and comfort her once in while”.  Okay-super.  I’ll just stick with that advice…for now.

Ellie is now sleeping peacefully, and every minute or so, her breathing is interrupted with little “huh-huh”, sighs from crying to hard.  I want so desperately to go and pick her up and just hold her and kiss her while she sleeps.  She is such a sweet little girl, and even at the tender age of one (I have a video monitor) she’ll drop her head like her feelings are hurt, while she sits there crying.  I know. I’m a sucker.  I just have to be strong and hang in there.  I did today, and as I was comforting her from afar, I started thinking about the whole concept of doing what’s best for your child – even when it’s hard.

Sometimes I picture God in this ethereal glory, hovering above the Earth, watching over every sparrow, every person as life goes on.  I always have thought of God as this strong, wholly force who is unmoved by emotion-but rather responds rationally and justly in every circumstance.  But then I think of Jesus, and His time here on the Earth.  Imagine God’s face the night Christ was born, or when He took His first steps.  I have no doubt that my mighty Heavenly Father, the Alpha and Omega had his heart strings tugged on by his precious son, Jesus.  Wow, what an epiphany.  To think that God has these moments of tearful joy, delighting in His child, in His children. 

In these moments when I feel like a weak parent, I think, “Lord, do you know what I’m feeling?  How hard this is for me?  Does it get easier?”  The answer is YES!  He knows exactly how we feel as parents.  I think of how God must’ve felt during the crucifixion, how His heart must have ached to rescue Jesus on the cross.   

Nicole Nordeman sings a powerful song called “Why” on her This Mystery album that describes the crucifixion through the eyes of Christ, a little girl in the crowd, and God as he sits in Heaven.  The most moving part of the song is where God responds to Jesus’ crying out from the cross, 

“My precious Son, I hear them screaming, and I’m watching the face of the enemy beaming.  But soon I will clothe you in robes of My own.  Jesus, this hurts Me much more than you know, but this dark hour-I must do nothing, though I’ve heard your unbearable cries.  The power in your blood destroys all of the lies.  Soon you’ll see past their unmerciful eyes.  Look there below; see the child, trembling by her Father’s side.  Now I can tell you why.  She is why you must die.”

With tears streaming down my face, I reflect on these words.  Can you imagine the pain and anguish that God must’ve felt to watch his son be so brutally executed-all the while having the power to be able to stop the pain in an instant. 

But He doesn’t.

He knows what His son’s pain means, and He loves this sinful world enough to resist that unbearable temptation.  I cannot even begin to imagine the love that God has not only for His son Jesus, but for each of us.

Everytime I struggle to do what is best for Ellie; and these acts are so minimal compared to the cross and Jesus’ sacrifice, I reflect on this song and what God has experienced as a loving Father.  It’s so comforting to know that every joy and pain I experience as a mom has been experienced by my Heavenly Father as well.  He really does know better than any other exactly what we’re going through as parents.

I am so humbled by how much my Father loves me.  Thank you God for doing what’s best for each of us.  You have given me my mothering heart, and the unending love for my children.  It was you who created me this way, and I know you intimately know every need of your children, and have every desire to comfort and protect us-just as we want the same for our children.  And yet, you do what’s best for us.  Thank you for loving us that much!

I am encouraged.  May each of us remember during the difficult and trying moments of parenthood, that God has walked our road, and knows our struggles, and is waiting for us to need him and desire him, and pray for his guidance and strength.  I really believe he delights in nothing more that loving and doting on his children, and our needing Him.  I have been blessed to see so many parallels between my love for Ellie, an God’s love for me.  And even though I am selfish, and sinful-and his love is perfect and blameless, I am so grateful for the lessons I’m learning about my Savior through the journey of being a mom.