Constant wakings, whimpers-turned wails, projectile poops — I'm convinced, are part of God's crash course to sanctification. Joking aside, caring for newborns seem to have a way of teaching us how to display God's love when we're tired, busy or flustered. Maranatha member and new mom Cindy Yip writes a lovely entry on how her little one is teaching her patience. Here's her entry:
Love is patient...
Patience is holding a crying baby for hours on end but having nothing but gentleness and kindness for him.
Patience is letting a baby sleep in your arms, stalling you from doing anything productive, because that's the only way he will sleep.
Patience is nursing the baby (again) after you just nursed him 30 minutes ago.
Patience is dropping all your afternoon plans and goals because your baby is having a cranky afternoon.
Patience is changing the onesie you just put on the baby because his diaper exploded.
I have always thought that my mother is one of the most patient mothers that I know — when it comes to dealing with children, at least. My sister and I used to spend countless hours in museums reading the print on every single display, give every excuse not to take a bath, ask to play outside in the backyard for just a little longer, and my mother never complained. She never rushed us nor told us that she had better things to do; she would wait patiently for us to be done or coax us by playing games that we could not resist, but never were our desires met with frustration or annoyance.
Since giving birth, I can see that it is by design that God starts training us the moment these little ones are born.
Baby Wesley (Curry) is a good sleeper, but there are days when he has bad gas or reflux and he needs me to hold him until he falls asleep. I watch the clock, letting the minutes pass by and telling myself "just one more minute"— and after many, many minutes, sometimes he goes to bed, but there are days when he pulls all his strength together to keep his eyes from closing. In those instances, I close my eyes, continue the rhythmic patting of his back and pray that God would give me the patience to just go on for another minute.
Nighttime is when our patience is put to the test most often. Ed and I, bewildered by what they call the "witching hour," defenseless against Wesley's inconsolable cries for 2-3 hours. We feed him, burp him, change him, rock him, pat him, give him gripe water, pray with him, pray for him, but nothing seems to soothe him, and suddenly he stops and all is quiet. All it took was patience.
Patience is what allows you to catch the the little moments in his life.
Patience rewards you when you find out what makes your baby smile because you're trying every means to distract him from crying.
Patience rewards you when your baby finds his hands for the first time and learns how to self-soothe himself.
Patience rewards you when your baby can hold his head up for the first time after fussing and fighting tummy time.
Patience is what allows you to take the many frustrating moments and cherish them.
For more on Cindy's journey, visit her blog here.