Mama, Mama, Mama....
Over and over he calls my name. My youngest struggles between fitful sleep and the agony of fever when awake. Too weak to lift his head he calls me every few minutes for help. Just as I am starting to drift into that sweet place of sleep I again hear my name. "Mama", he calls in a weak voice. I will myself be awake. Like a band-aid stuck on skin my head does not want to lift from the pillow. I pray, "Lord, give me strength."From the depths of my spirit I find the strength to rise. I set my tired feet on the floor and go to help my sweet little man.
When I return to the pillow a beautiful thought settles over me. God never slumbers or sleeps. No matter how weary I am, He is never weary. He loves to hear me cry out to His name. His hearts desire is to walk along side me, just as He did in the garden with Adam and Eve. He never tires of me calling out His name.
"Abba Father, Daddy, I need you."
Psalm 121:1-8
I lift up my eyes to the mountains—
where does my help come from?
My help comes from the Lord,
the Maker of heaven and earth.
He will not let your foot slip—
he who watches over you will not slumber;
indeed, he who watches over Israel
will neither slumber nor sleep.
The Lord watches over you—
the Lord is your shade at your right hand;
the sun will not harm you by day,
nor the moon by night.
The Lord will keep you from all harm—
he will watch over your life;
the Lord will watch over your coming and going
both now and forevermore.
Oh how I remember... For years I had a sleeping bag under my side of the bed, where any little soul could find comfort. I remember how they would sort of sigh with a shudder, when they were scared, and I would hum into the darkness, "When I am afraid, I will trust in you..." Sadly, they grow up, and don't come in my room anymore. I wish they would, but they are too grown up for that. Too ashamed to say they are frightened by a nightmare or are tossing over a comment at the lunch table. Isn't it good to know that we never need be ashamed, before God? He bids us to draw near in the dark, the way a sweet Mama wants her babies close when they are sick or scared. Love you, Michelle. Enjoy these little years; they are so fleeting!
ReplyDelete