Something that continues to surprise me these last few weeks is when the thought, “I should really pray” is automatically followed by
Dear God above
Hear my prayer
Thank you for your love and care
Amen.
It’s the first prayer in my daughter’s bedtime prayer book. There are about five more prayers. I know each one by heart.
But I can’t tell you what the preacher had to say during church. I heard words but couldn’t stay focused enough to get a word. I also can’t tell you what my morning devotional reading was about or its key text. I just know I read something.
It’s my turn now. My turn to be so focused on another human being that I miss things, things I took for granted, and I shape new things, new normals.
I remember reflecting in a similar manner when my daughter was newer. My devotional life had already taken a hit during the ups and downs of pregnancy. Even though I know God doesn’t need me to feel pretty in order to approach him, there’s nothing like acid reflux or a restless night to make talking to God feel ill timed. Not having a good routine for spiritual feeding wasn’t how I intended to begin life with a newborn, but there I was (and am) banking on there being more to my walk with God than what I was used to.
It’s my turn now, my turn to catch up with God at seemingly random times like feeding my daughter. Just tonight, I begged him to point me to something spiritually meaty, something I could read on my phone while Ella ate. He gently reminded me that just as my milk is enough to sustain her, so he is enough to sustain me. In other words, stop looking for some awesome prose piece to point you to me–just look at me yourself, talk to me yourself.
Well, you can guess how I reacted to that. I started writing, doing my one-thumb dance across my phone’s keypad. It wasn’t intentional disobedience; it’s how I process best. In a way, these words have all been me talking to God. And they’ve also made it clear that I really do need to talk to God. So off I go. I need to pack for a trip. This conversation is gonna be hard. Is a prayer prayed while multitasking for the sake of my child still a prayer?
…it’s my turn. 🙂
I think there were at least 5 years when I could not remember actually hearing more than 3 or 4 sermons. The daze of new-mommy-brain, the necessity of dealing with a baby and then a baby and a toddler during church…. well, it might have been more than 5 years. But I remember being able to recite several of my girls’ books by heart, including our favorite, Thank You God. And the songs that filled my head were mostly the sweet lullabies on the CD we played every night and every nap time. Now that they are 8 & almost 10, there are intelligent conversations and chapter books, and I get to listen and participate in the adult Sabbath School and the church service. It turns out there is a light at the end of the tunnel, but there is so much to cherish in the moment when they are tiny! Thank you for sharing your journey!