I came across this post in a drafts folder today. I wrote it back in May of last year, and sent it off to be a guest post somewhere. It didn’t make the cut and I forgot about it. Although it’s nearly a year later, and we’re in a different season in a new home, it meant a lot to me to re-read it, and I hope it’ll be an encouragement to you. As we transition from one wee one to two, I’m excited all over again.

I have a special privilege almost every evening these days. Just as Hero Hubs and I are going to bed, I creep back into our little one’s room to tuck him in. (Down here in the southern hemisphere, it’s chilly chilly winter time.)

Night after night, I silently slip in and assess the situation. I find the socks he pulled off before drifiting to sleep and slip them back onto his feet. I get his blankies sorted out and put an extra one over him on very cold nights. Sometimes his head is at the wrong end of the crib, he has his knees tucked under him and his bum in the air. Sometimes he stirs and lets out a little whimper that will be hushed with a simple shhhh…. it is always an oh-so precious moment.

A few nights ago, I went in to tuck him in and he was in my favourite unique and sweet position: the head at the wrong end, bum in the air one. He stirred and lifted his head to try to figure out who’d come in his room to put blankies back over him. As I stroked his hair and shushed him back to sleep, his head dropped back onto his jungle animal sheets and he let out a big toot.

It was a toot only a mother could love. Actually the Hubs would’ve loved it, too. But in that moment, and in so many of those moments, I am suddenly met with this overwhelming reminder: the Lord looks on me like this, and He loves me like this. And then some.

The privilege I meet in those moments over and over again is to look and to cherish and to love and to think, oh gosh I am just so thankful for this little boy who is such a gift from the Lord. But the privilege is also to look and to love and to think…this is how the Lord loves me.

It seems this prone to wander heart of mine somehow manages to become unconvinced of God’s steadfast love. Like the helium that slowly escapes from the balloon my little one got at the store last week, without me being able to perceive it, slowly, slowly… there’s deflation in my heart.

I imperceptibly slide into a mindset where I feel “not good enough” and I tug my little branch away from the Abiding Vine. I feel like my performance has been poor and so I draw away from the One who loves me this much, because I think He can’t love me like this. I am busy sewing fig leaves to hide my heart, instead of saying Here I am, as I am…thank You that Your grace covers me.

In that cosy nursery finding socks and arranging blankets, experience tells me that no matter what the day has been like, whether the Bear was a lion or a lamb, still there is overwhelming joy and thankfulness, and so much love at the day’s end. And I realise that no matter how my performance has been on a particular day or week, I know the Lord’s love for me is still steadfast and true — more sturdy and steady than mine for my little one.

I’m thankful, as I tip-toe out and quietly close the door, to remember: He is the one who covers me with feathers and shields, gently caring, strongly protective. Whether I’m bum in the air and socks off tooting, on the wrong track or the right one, still the most profound truth I’ve learned remains: Yes, Jesus loves me.

xCC