After a long night of very exhausting attention to Operation: sleep like a baby, this morning was a little rough. Our evening included attempt #1 at ditching the swaddle, day 5 of recovery from the daylight savings time change, and therefore a whole lot of NOT sleeping. At the 10 o’clock hour I was growing misty eyed at how much the babies have grown since they were in my belly such a short time ago. It was quite dramatic as I mused over the last year. However, by the 2am hour I was spouting grouchy exclamations about how Titus’s cry sounds like a ferrel cat when he can’t get out of his swaddle (we failed at ditching the swaddle half-way through the night.) Shane, in his mid REM cycle, was not amused.
Now that the sun has risen and it is technically “daytime,” I am not amused. With fussy babies and a groggy mama, our day’s potential is less than productive-worthy.
I abandoned my goal of rising an hour earlier in the morning to blog a bit before feeding babies. After all, Titus finally started sleeping only an hour before I was to wake up.
The 2 mile jog I planned will be postponed for another day.
Laundry is gaining wrinkles in the dryer.
I will probably ignore the book I borrowed from the library, choosing an episode of Gilmore Girls to pass the afternoon nap time away (which, in all honesty, I believe is improving my wit and bantering skills).
And I resigned myself to wearing jammies and snuggling the babies all day to survive the sleep depravation.
But there is one thing I will not compromise: my breakfast with Jesus.
Though it be short, simple, and less challenging than usual, I know the value of this daily dose of truth. However few brain cells I have available to the dedication of our relationship, I cherish my time to get to know Jesus better.
So after nursing and a round of tummy time, I stream a YouTube video of Mr. Roger’s Neighnorhood (which Evi coos at through the whole episode), pop a pre-made egg-muffin in the microwave, and sit down with my journal and Bible and open heart.
Proverbs 31, familiar and relevant, beckons my attention. And there I find affirmation in this tiring, mood-swing inducing, anti-chores-getting-done, marvelous season of life:
She rises also while it is still night and gives food for her household. Proverbs 31:15
If the woman of great excellence got up in the wee dark hours, I am honored to have similar demands on my sleep schedule as well.
God knows how to encourage us, and bring purpose and calling back to mind, for His glory! If I had skipped this time with God, justifiably blaming exhaustion and poor thinking capacity for my absence, I would have missed out on the reminder.
It gives me a handful of Symota to approach the rest of the day with. And I make a choice, as the woman of P31 does, to sense that my gain is good (P 31:18).
I won’t let my lamp go out at night. My light will shine for my kids, through the darkness of sleep depravation and sleepy-eyed mechanics of the day after. What I do matters, and my God meets me in the middle of it every moment. I just pray he gains all glory and that my kids, husband and neighbors who drop by unannounced will see His light shining through my eyes, dark-circled though they may be.
By the way, I think I found a shirt to accurately describe this season, from ezraandeli.com.
Anyone else in love with this company?