Searching for joy this morning after being up all night with the baby. It’s been 8 months since I’ve slept longer than 3 hours. He was up every hour last night. Sheer exhaustion set in a few months ago. Last spring, as I sat by his bed in the NICU, longing to have him home, I remember thinking I would never complain about getting up at night. I have complained. When he was having difficulty nursing, as many preemies do, I thought I would never complain about nursing him. But, again, I have complained.
This morning, I woke up crabby and not feeling much joy. I was impatient and short with my husband. I apologized, but it set an ugly tone to the morning. So, I sat in quiet, for just a minute, to pray for the grace to see His glory & perfection this morning. Seeking gratitude in all moments. Glorifying Him in the difficult. Ann Voskamp calls it the hard eucharisteo.
He is perfect. His plan is perfect. I know God is using me for a greater purpose. Sometimes that's hard to remember at three am. That's when I need to remember the hard eucharisteo.
My annual Advent companion, The Reed of God, is nearby. So, I start to read about Mary’s perfect obedience to God’s will. Motherhood is a vocation of sacrifice and nobody exemplifies that like Mary. And God does not ask of me, what he asked of Mary.
“Each work of her hands prepared His hands a little more for the nails; each breath that she drew counted on more to His last. In giving life to Him she was giving Him death.
We shall not be asked to do more than the Mother of God; we shall not be asked to become extraordinary. What we shall be asked to give is our flesh and blood, our daily life-our thoughts, our service to one another, our affections and loves, our words, our intellect, our waking, working, and sleeping, our ordinary human joys and sorrows- to God.” ~Caryll Houselander
Dear God, thank you...
162. For Mary's Perfect yes.
163. For choosing me to be a mother.
164. For all the moments of motherhood, the easy and the hard. It is all perfectly You.
165. That I am able to hold my crying baby.
166. That I can calm, comfort and nourish him when he needs me.
167. That I can feel and smell his sweet breath on my face when he's sleeping next to me.