We quickly and quietly hunker down for the night after she’s asleep. Well, it’s not yet “for the night” but more like “for the 2 to 3 hour segments she’ll bless us with.” We bring up people and situations to pray for, all in hushed tones, and then we pray.
And I’ve honestly asked God if I can get a pass during this season of newborn wonder. Does taking care of Ella count as prayer/worship/QT/devotions? I mean, it’s a pretty spiritual enterprise, I barley fit a shower into the mix, and if it weren’t for my husband and mother, I probably wouldn’t eat much beyond bread and yogurt.
I’m sure I’ll eventually figure out how to live off of minimal sleep and still wear decent clothes, use deodorant, and make it to a 9am dental appointment (all in the same day). By no means do I think this current crazy phase will last eternally. But while it exists and while I pass through many more crazy phases, the rich time with God that I’m used to seems impossible.
In the still moments, I want to talk to my child. When I have a chance to catch my breathe, I put on Chapstick. When she’s napping, I stare at her in deep amazement. When she’s fully awake and calm, I sing to her as tears fight to fall. This is all so incredible, so much so that reading a passage of scripture, journaling about the lessons therein and/or praying for God’s will in my life seem impossible and tedious to schedule (especially since they were already hard to stick with before now).
It’s not that I believe in following a certain script. I’m actually willing to shift to new ways but right now my top priorities are to focus on Ella and to feel a bit clean.
This overnight change is weird and literally overnight. And it’s beautiful. And weird some more. Taking the time to write about it feels absolutely frivolous yet necessary because I just gained some clarity.
(And that ^^, dear friends, is what you call a prayer. Amen.)