Teething...Thunderstorms...Trusting

Last night, I was reminded, in small ways, of how very much I am needed by all of the creatures in my household. The littlest one, Max, had a hard time settling down, which is very unusual. As he thrashed and whimpered in my arms, I recognized that awful process of cutting a new tooth. What pain, what discomfort he must have been feeling! After rubbing his gums to help ease the pain as best as I could, I sat in the glider in his room and sang softly (and maybe a tad off-key) "Seek Ye First", "Father I Adore You", and our favorite, "You Are My Sunshine". Slowly but surely, he settled in, softly rubbing his little hand on my face, and began to drift off. What a gift! To be able to rock my baby to help ease his pain, with nothing but sheer love and concern as the balm, it made me feel so connected to the multitude of women over the ages who have done the same thing. Even when we are tired. Even when we are physically, mentally drained. We are graced with the ability to continue to give. Thanks be to God.

And so, after I gently laid him down, I heard the quiet plea of, "Um. Mommy. Can you please give me a backrub?" This, from my darling Joe who wasn't all that crazy about the current thunderstorm raging around us. In fact, I was surprised that he hadn't snuck down to our bed...but then again, he too had his own tooth issues. His latest tooth under the pillow waiting for the gift of that elusive fairy. Guarding it maybe? Who knows. As I settled in on his bed, gently rubbing his back, he said, "Exactly why does God have to be so loud?" Hmmm. Always the most interesting questions from this one, the most sensitive to sounds and light. So I said, "Well darlin', sometimes he has to be loud so that we can hear him in the quiet."

Silence.

 "Mommy. That makes a little bit of sense." Whew. Crisis averted. And when I thought about it, it actually does make a little bit of sense. There is a great power that is bigger than ourselves. So big that He is able to light the entire sky with electric roads and make our homes tremble with the resounding sound. How much, then, is He able to light our lives and make our hearts tremble? If we could just take time to listen....

As I slowly made my way downstairs, looking forward to reading a little and listening to the storm, I hear, "Honey, can you come and see me?" My husband Tom was in the sunroom reading, the soft light of the lamp often punctuated by the lightning. And there, I realized, was also our dog and our cat. All snuggled together, waiting for me. Waiting for my love, my heart, and my attention. How good it is to be needed. To be loved. To be trusted. To be trusting.....