It’s after 11:30PM when I finally fall into bed. I hadn’t intended on staying up that late but there’s work to be done and so, it just happened that way.
It’s seems like it’s only minutes later, when I hear her calling out to me in the dark. She calls my name once, and I wait–sometimes she does this in her sleep, and by the time I reach her bedside, she’s drifted off again. I lay still listening, hoping this is one such time. But again, she calls out to me, “Mooooomy”, this time, louder and angrier.
I shed the covers and comfort of bed, making my way in the pitch dark to her room. In the seconds before I reach her, she bellows out louder for me, just as I step into her room.
I rub her back and hush her gently, urging her to go back to sleep. She mumbles something, but I’m already half out of the room, eager for rest of my own.
I’ve only just drifted off when her hollering stirs me again. She’s crying now, and for a moment I am both concerned and irritated. I’m so very tired. (And so very selfish).
Again, I rub her back, and tuck her blanket tight up under her chin. She asks me if she can get up but the clock glows 3-something and I tell her it’s not time yet–to go back to sleep.
It’s not long after I’ve returned to bed that she wanders down the hall, she lingers a minute in the doorway, she’s hesitant–waiting. My husband calls to her and she comes in, asking to join us in bed. She curls up between us and I feel her small fingers stroking my hair. Her gentleness convicts me for my impatience and annoyance at her restlessness.
I lay there thinking for a while about how love interrupts. Love can be a most inconvenient decision and yet, we’re called to this above all–love one another.
I’ve been considering what my witness looks like to my children. Studies say that children learn about God through observing their parents. This fact disturbs me on a number of levels, mostly, because my flaws run so deep, and honestly, some days I’m staggeringly graceless.
I’m called to love and I do, but when my children call out in the dark, do I love them–not with my heart but with my actions?
I am confident that God hears my cries in the dark. I know it because He answers me–not with an annoyed huffing of impatience, but with a gentleness that soothes and comforts.
He will cover you with his feathers, and under his wings you will find refuge; his faithfulness will be your shield and rampart. …If you say, “The Lord is my refuge,” and you make the Most High your dwelling, no harm will overtake you, no disaster will come near your tent. For he will command his angels concerning you to guard you in all your ways; they will lift you up in their hands, so that you will not strike your foot against a stone. Psalm 91:4, 9-12 NIV84
so excellent… it’s all about yielding to His call at any moment, isn’t it? There is such sweet reward in obedience. May love continue to interrupt us daily!
this is my cry, as well, Barbara. may Love interrupt me daily.
well, done, Kris. 🙂
Thanks, Kelli. I’m still learning to allow Him in, learning to say yes, with joy!
Amen!
God has been teaching me about the ministry of being available and sometimes that means we’re available even when we are interrupted. Those interruptions are sometimes the point of our journey for that day. The interruptions in the night are hardest for me. Thank you for this encouragement.
Yes, this is so true, and the night time interruptions are the hardest, but God’s teacher is constant–and I am grateful for that.
Eating this up, every morsel and feeling the gentle conviction rub past me on this love in the tired and love in the dark.
Thanks for reading, Elizabeth. I just want to love well. May we learn to shine the love of the Father in all the hours.
Such a convicting post Kris, thank you for your words.
Thanks, Shelly. These are the lessons I need to learn again and again it seems.
Thank you for the gentle reminder that they look to us to learn how God is. That was totally convicting, and not just for the middle of the night.
Thanks, Rachel. So glad something here spoke to your heart. That’s grace!
This rings so, so true, Kris. I hear you, about the calls in the night and the impatience and the gentleness. Thank you for this.
Thank YOU Annie for saying so. I continue to be humbled by parenting, and by learning what Love looks like. What a journey…
selfishness comes easy to me at 3am, too…in my tiredness. what a great reminder that I need to keep filling myself up with Him in order to respond to the demands this world brings. Thank you, friend! {HUGS}
((hugs)) back at you, Nikki. XO
Ahh, love, that elusive thing He promises me. Once a wise woman looked deep in my guilty eyes and reminded me, “Jesus died for parental failure” and then I loved better after that. Thanks for sharing.
I like that. I’m counting on it.
I am so thankful that love interrupts. It is easy to forget how much we need it in our lives!
Indeed. It is a gift.
God has used few things to the extent that he’s used parenting to humble me and help me to rely more on Him… Thanks for the beautiful reminder to embrace these moments…
That is the truth. Parenting is the ultimate refinement tool in my life. God is so good and faithful.
Thank you, Kris. This is just beautiful and wise and exactly what I needed this very moment–as I walk out the door to pick up my three from school.
I need the reminder too, Jennifer. These words are for me today as well…
Indeed, their gentleness often convicts…
Thank you for sharing this.
Blessings.
Thanks, Darlene. Bless you, my friend.
Convicted. Thank you Kris.
“Somedays I’m staggeringly graceless.” Ouch.
I never had this issue (that I remember) with my kids once they were asleep, but my grandgirl is different. There are nights (not so many as she gets older) where I feel like a Jack-in-the-Box. And after multiple calls, I’ve sometimes lost it.
But God never loses His temper when we call multiple times in the dark…
Excellent message