A tired mom looks to Him to power through

Tag Archives: Trust

"Us 4 Cuddling on the Couch"

“Us 4 Cuddling on the Couch”

Intimacy: I’ve been playing through this word a lot lately.
Last week, when blogs went all whirly with differing perspectives on the Fifty Shades Debate, I wanted to join in. I wanted to be one of the big kids on the virtual blog playground, throw in my two cents, you know, feel like I could hang with the big dogs.

But I could not pull my thoughts together in a meaningful way. In short, our conviction is we aren’t going to see it. I’m kind of blunt. I think if you have two free hours, and you’re married, you should go jump in bed with your husband. (You may have 50 shades, but it will not be dreary or gray!)

Intimacy: we all want it. And it is not limited to sex. It gets thrown into that arena the most, but there is a lot more to it. And I think there may lie some issue with Fifty Shades, it suggests and shows intimacy inaccurately, falsely. When you know the good and purity in something, and you see it tarnished, it is a bummer.

The dictionary defines intimacy as “a close, familiar, and usually affectionate or loving personal relationship with another person or group.” We want closeness, the safety of familiarity, and loving personal relationships. We want acceptance and confidence that who we really, truly are, is enough.

The above picture made my morning today. Our 4 year old daughter drew it on the way to school. When I asked her what it was, she said “Us 4, cuddling on the couch.” That is intimacy. Closeness that cuddles and smiles together.

And so, I am meditating on intimacy much these days. How can I better communicate closeness to my husband, my children, the kids at church, the women at church? These are all people worthy of intimacy.

Advertisements

“Mrs. Carman,  I have my diagnosis for you.  Your son is fine, but you need some cojones.”

Okay, that is NOT what my pediatrician told me recently.  He told me in more polite, more professional terms.  He actually warned me – “now, your heart and brain may not register together on what I am about to tell you.  Stay with me.”

What, pray tell, brought on this discussion?  The fact that our near two year old, within the last three months, had gone absolutely ape nuts over not wanting to sleep at night.  I chalked it up to sleep regression, bad dreams, hunger, sleep anxiety and all other things that Google enlightened me.  In all truthfulness, I was the one developing sleep anxiety.  I approached night time with equal fear, trepidation, and frustration.  Let’s see, if I put him down at 8:00p, that will give him two solid hours to scream, so maybe I’ll get to bed about 10:00p?  Except 10:00p turned into 1:00a and then the window of time where my sleeping took place kept shrinking.  It was getting unbearable.  After ruling out ear infections and any other medical related predicament, my pediatrician laid it on me: no sleep anxiety, no night tremors, no neurological concerns or developmental delays.

Stubbornness.   Pure, unadulterated stubbornness.  And, by giving in out of compassion and empathy and frustration and despair, by picking him up after the second hour of hysteria, I had fed it.  I had welcomed it and invited it.  I dug us all into a dark and lonely pit of not sleeping.  My muscles stayed tense, I came down with two head colds.  I felt pitted against having to choose against a weakened immune system or a screaming child.  Time to develop cojones.

I, for one, love cuddling.  Not 24/7.  God is love.  God gets to be present 24/7, I don’t.  I don’t get to be God.  It was time to gather all of my few little nerves together and be courageous and be bold.  For this is the other definition of cojones -(besides, you know, the male anatomy).  What the doctor told me required nerve and courage.  At first it seemed counter-intuitive to this mothering gig:

a) “Let him scream.  Under few circumstances are you permitted to go back into that room.”

b) “You may think that he will scream so much that he will physically blow up.  He will not spontaneously erupt into lots of little toddler pieces from screaming.”

c) “Get a nice set of ear plugs.”

Um, this doesn’t sound very loving.  This is where that little warning about heart and brain matching came in handy.  Desperation is humbling.  It makes you listen to your doctor when what he or she says sounds a little wonky.

Doc was right.  There have been a few very long nights.  Nights that were tough on both of us.  I put on the ear plugs, but I still heard the screams.  But as I write this, I write in a peaceful, sleep filled house.  A home blessed by a sleeping toddler.  In less than a week, he is re-learning the ropes.  He is able to get himself to sleep and be secure and know that “night-night = sleep” and not “let me scream because I am not getting what I want.”  A simple redirecting, really.  A redirecting that took courage.

And I am reminded that every now and then, the  parenting answer is counter-intuitive to what we are so set in our thinking.  I am a better parent, wife, and employee because I was able to back away slowly and shut the door and be okay with not being there.  It took nerve and courage and trust to abandon short term thinking for long term vision.    I didn’t like it at first but was driven by a need for change.  God wants us and believes in us to change.  To have cojones.  He leads us in the cojone way everlasting.

 

 


God Moments: Spiritual Thoughts in 100 Words or Less

Philippians 3:16
“Only let us live up to what we have already attained.”

Each day brings both familiar and new challenges. Don’t waste time placing unfair and unrealistic expectations on how to react to new challenges. Act on what you know from past experience, and trust the Teacher will guide you through the unknown.