just breathe...

My precious daughter has already developed some very unique habits.  One of them is seeing if she can manage to soak herself and the changing table while I am changing her diaper (and then sometimes she decides to use other methods than "soaking...").  Another is making the weirdest (but cutest) little grunting noses, all the time, whether she's hungry, eating, or sleeping.

Some of her habits, however, aren't so cute.  Some of them are hard and frustrating.  Like the fact that she pretty much takes an hour to nurse (we've nicknamed her the Marathon Eater...:) ).  My husband swore up and down it was payback for me being such a slow eater, but that earned him a dirty look, so he hasn't said that in awhile.  Another one of these frustrating habits is that she always decides she wants to suck on her hands...right when it's time to nurse.  Then she gets really mad at me because she's not getting any milk (lol, go figure...we'll get it straight soon enough).  Probably the habit of hers, though, that is the hardest for me, is that there are times when she gets herself worked up so much that she can't stop crying, alot of times for no obvious reason.  I know she's not the only baby that has this habit (in fact, I think it's a habit that just comes with the territory of newborns), but it is definitely the hardest one to watch.  

When she has one of those moments, it kills me.  It's all I can do to watch her, growing more and more frustrated and upset.  Regardless of what I do to try and reassure her, to stabilize her, to let her know I'm here and it's going to be ok, she refuses to be calmed down.  With all I am, I just want to be able to tell her, "just breathe, baby girl...it's going to be ok...trust me."  

Eventually, we weather the storm, and life returns to normal.  But these moments have given me such a vivid image of my state before the Lord.  How many times am I like my precious daughter, crying against Him without understanding, without trust in Him.  I feel guilty even as I look back at the past two weeks.  Over and over since we brought my precious baby girl, I have stressed everything:  did I feed her long enough, am I feeding her too often, did she get enough to eat, should I try and keep her awake right now, should she be sleeping, is it ok to pick her up or does she need to cry this one out, is she going to be ok?  The list is exhausting, and overwhelming.  

My guess is the Lord looks at me, and I probably seem just like my sweet baby.  He probably hears all my worries, and to His ears, they sound just like Selah's cries.  I often wonder if He doesn't look at me and think, "just breathe, baby girl...it's going to be ok...just trust me."

I try to read from the Psalms everyday...they offer encouragement and hope that is so real and relevant, often paralleling the things we ourselves feel.  Today found me in Psalm 53, which starts off with, "The fool says in his heart,"There is no God." They are corrupt, doing abominable iniquity; there is none who does good.  God looks down from heaven on the children of man to see if there are any who understand, who seek after God."  At first I wanted to completely disregard those words...I mean, I believe in God--that must mean I'm not a fool, right??  But as I continued reading them, I was struck by something I had not before thought about:  verse two says the Lord is searching for any who understand, who seek Him...they are the ones who are not fools.

My constant cries, worries, and stresses before Him are the actions of a fool.  I'm not saying it's wrong to cry out to Him, but I am saying my continual stress and unwillingness to rest in His presence is the mark of a fool.  Instead, I want my identity to be centered in the last part of the verse:  I want to be counted among those who "seek after God."  In all things, I want to strive for Him, I want to acknowledge Him, I want to recognize His never-ending presence, provision, and sovereignty over my circumstances.

Though I love my baby girl dearly, I do not want to share in her habit.  I do not want to find myself crying out for no reason, anxious in all things without having sought out the Rock that is my precious Savior.  Instead, as I run to Him and seek Him, I will rest in the steadfast faithfulness and glory of who He is, knowing always that His plans result in the continual praise of His name, and my eventual good.  And with all I am, I will strive to listen when He says, "just breathe baby girl...it's going to be ok...trust me."