Thursday, January 29, 2015

Growing Pains

These early weeks of parenting--combined with many many many hours of nursing (which, in the wee hours of the morning, are particularly conducive to spiritual reflection)--have taught me a number of things about God the Father and my relationship with Him, especially with respect to God's desire for my faith, and His own trustworthiness.

About two months ago, a little baby was born into my life, and that baby is (and remains) utterly helpless.  Everything has to be done for her:  input of food, output of processed food, dressing, undressing, cleaning, grooming, settling for sleep, moving from place to place.  Even holding her neck.  All she knows how to do for herself is cry--cry out for help when she is hungry, cold, hot, wet or dirty, tired, overstimulated, or just plain lonely and in need of a hug.

From day one, I vowed against any version of the "cry it out" method, which just strikes me as unnatural at best, and cruel at worst.  I have made it our mission to respond to her every cry with haste.  Even if we get it wrong (by changing her diaper when she's just cold, for example) because we aren't yet fluent in Juniorese, I want her to know that we are here for her and she can trust us to care for her.  I am especially sensitive to any cries for hunger, and try to minimize any delay in responding to that cry.

I am proud of what we have done to build this bond of trust.  It is what we owe to our child as her parents.  And for the most part, I think we have (so far) earned her trust.  Sometimes, though, I look down at my precious little bundle and worry that she doesn't trust us to come through for her.  I am concerned that for whatever reason, she will take to sucking her fist rather than crying out in hunger because she isn't sure that we will provide milk.  Or that she will self-soothe herself rather than cry out for a snuggle.  Those thoughts make me so sad.  Even the idea of my baby girl not trusting me to provide for her feels like a deep and dark, vacuous hole of sadness.

And that makes me think...God must also be really sad when I don't trust in Him to provide for me.  Throughout my life, I have despaired over a host of things (finances, academic performance, following the right career path, finding a spouse, finding good friends, being a good mom, making good use of my life).  Not just run-of-the-mill worried, but despaired.  Wandered around in circles in my mind.  Mentally paced back and forth for days and weeks and months.  Stressed myself into a tight little ball of anxiety.  

Having had a few weeks of perspective as a parent, though, I can only imagine that in those periods, God was sad.  He had done nothing to make me doubt His trustworthiness, yet I did not trust Him to provide, lead, or guide.  And why?  Surely I could understand some doubt in a human parent for we all have flaws...but the God of the universe, from whom all things stem--to doubt Him?  To doubt Him who not only wields infinite power, but also extends--and indeed embodies--infinite love?  How could it be?

I'm realizing with greater clarity that faith is what God has called me to.  He calls me to believe in Him and to trust in Him, even though I can't see Him.  He is my loving Father, and if I--a mere human parent with weirdo foibles and imperfect motives and wavering commitment--work my hardest to provide all that my baby girl needs, then how much more can God be trusted to provide all that I need? 

Still, it takes practice to mentally shift from an attitude of anxiety to an attitude of trust.  The redirection in my mind goes something like this these days:

What am I doing with my life?  Look at my baby girl...I'm going to have so many hours away from her.  I'm totally doing the wrong thing by going back to work full-time.  But...what if I'm not?  Maybe I'll be a better mom and use my hours with her better because I'm not at home with her all the time, so I'll treasure the time with her more.  But...what if that's just a moronic excuse to make myself feel better?  

What is God calling me to?  Full-time work as an attorney (wasn't that the whole point of becoming a lawyer?) or full-time mom? Maybe I should take some time off? But then how would I get back into the work after Junior grows up?  (sigh)  (pause)  What is best for Junior?  She can't be the center of the universe; that's not good for her.  And it's not good for our family, or anyone.  But surely there must be a balance... 

God, what's the best thing to do? Will you please please pretty please give us wisdom to know how to parent her well?  Help me to know what is right and wise and good for her.  Help me to be willing to do whatever is required to parent her well, in a way that makes you happy.  I can only believe that parenting in a way that makes you happy will also be good for Junior.  I am asking you -- please help.  And help me to trust in your help...to remember that you sent your son Jesus to die for my sins just so we could have a relationship. If you would give me that, how much more will you give in terms of these lesser requests!  Help me to trust that just as I would do anything in my power to give Junior what she needed, especially if she asked (but even if she didn't), You--as the perfect Father--will do so much more for me.

It's a daily struggle.  Daily.  Struggle.  Hourly, even.  This is a big chunk of what I think about these days.  It's like spiritual crunches -- they hurt, and they're exhausting.  But I do want my faith muscles to get stronger--so deep down, I am thankful for these growing pains.



No comments:

Post a Comment