This last year has been a journey into joy for me. As I've truly struggled with yet another colicky, sleepless baby, I have been in a wrestling match with God. I am so thankful He enters into this wrestling, that He never just leaves us alone in our pain and doubt. Night after night, day after day, I would pray for Josh to stop screaming, for him to find a peaceful sleep, and night after night and day after day nothing would change. Oh my aching heart! This felt like a déjà vu from 3 years ago. Endless nights of sleepless Izzy, fussy days of fighting over naps and wondering why she wouldn't just play happily. Why wouldn't God answer my prayers? Why was this such an endless struggle for me? Why did I feel so incredibly alone in this experience? Thankfully Josh is an extremely smiley baby, and when he wasn't crying inconsolably he was charming my pants off! God is so faithful to give us Hope in the midst of darkness. And yet I was still in anguish and really questioning my unanswered prayers.
But this time, this last few months, something changed within me. I think it started when I began reading Drawing Near by John Bevere again. It is an amazing book about walking intimately with Jesus. I just love the simple truth that God draws near to those who draw near to Him. So I started making an effort to draw near to Jesus in those long night hours. It seems silly to say that seeing as I had been praying during those hours before, but this time I walked in without the pretense of rescue and instead with the desire to just be with Jesus. Instead of looking for answers, I was just looking for companionship. And Jesus was so faithful to meet me there. I think He was there in my cries of desperation, but I couldn't hear Him over my own wailing. This time I quieted my heart and found His small, gentle voice. And there it was, joy. Joy that my heart had so been missing. Joy that my aching heart needed so very badly.
This joy isn't consistent, I know, due to my lack of faith. There are still days when I sit in Josh's room stewing about why he won't nap this time. And there are still nights when I am awake grumbling over yet another sleepless night. But now there are far more days where I am able to delight in and find joy throughout the chaotic moments. More often than not I am able to smile and laugh when my daughter paints on the bath tub I just cleaned, or spills frozen peas all over the floor. I can engage with Josh at a different level of enjoyment--savoring his "uh-oh's" and giggling as I hear him race at full speed across the kitchen in search of the fun being had in Izzy's room. I absolutely adore watching my sleeping Josh in the middle of the night even though I am completely bone weary. I am SO thankful for the joy that I have found!
And yet, I have a sadness within me as I experience this joy. I am deeply saddened at the fact that it took me two and a half years to find this soul satisfying joy. I am completely grieving the fact that I did not truly know this joy when Izzy was a baby. I was so lost in my frustration, and exhaustion, and bitterness that I missed out on those quiet moments of reflection on her sweet, sleeping face. I was so busy searching for answers that I didn't stop to delight in her laughter and silliness. I wasn't completely bereft of these joys; I still
enjoyed my daughter, it was just largely tainted by an anger with the imperfection of the situation. I am sad that I did not choose joy when Izzy was a baby the way I am more able to now with Josh. I feel like I missed out on the opportunity to savor her infanthood.
I have struggled and struggled with this sadness the past few weeks and have concluded that it's okay to be sad, it's fitting. But I can't go back, I can't undo it. Instead I can just make peace with how God used those days and nights to bring me to where I am today. It was a journey to joy, and sometimes the road to our destination is ugly and winding and a little bit blinding. I know God has a purpose for my struggle and I am not going to live in the "what if". Instead I will just choose to delight in my kids daily, choosing joy over bitterness. The key is in the
choosing. It is important to recognize that we must choose to walk with God every day, every moment. And it's important to realize that we are going to screw that up at least 1,000 moments a day. But that is why there is grace.
I need grace, and so do you. In these moments of grieving over my bitterness I need grace even more. Grace to know that I wasn't the perfect mom, and even upon finding my joy, I still won't be the perfect mom. I have a lot to learn. At church on Sunday the pastor said, "those who allow God to give them the most grace, those who need grace the most, are the ones who in turn give grace generously." I want to give grace generously, especially in this parenting gig. It is so easy to point fingers at other moms and think we have the magic solution or the best method, but we're imperfect at this whole parenting thing and so are they. God teaches each of us things at different points in the journey. So when I'm sitting at the park
tut tutting the mom who is feeding her kid Cheetos at 9 o'clock in the morning, or in the line at the grocery store as the mom gives her kid in the cart her phone to play with, I need to step back and remember that they need grace just like me. And in those days when I'm so frustrated with myself for once again falling into bitterness or anger with my children, I need to remember to give myself grace as well. I think it's impossible to have true joy without knowing true grace--the freedom to mess up, to be imperfect because you know a love that covers a multitude of sins. And then in turn, hopefully my children will know grace and joy and a love that forgives. I want my children to know these things, and so I must pursue them myself.
So with this post I own my sadness and also let it go. Holding on to it would only lead to less joy, and I'm choosing joy these days. I hope you are able to choose joy today too.