Fed...

Having a newborn has proven to be very time consuming.  Having a newborn and a toddler...consequently all I do is nurse and discipline.  Cuddle and rock to sleep.  Laundry and dishes.  But I think it goes without saying I rarely have time to myself.  To bathe, much less blog.

Sorry for the long absence.  But doesn't it makes a heart grow fonder?  I've missed you.

Motherhood taught me so much the first time around...about myself.  This time I'm learning equally as much...about God's grace.

As I sit with my baby to my breast, I notice how intent I am that she recieve that nourishment.  Despite the pain that goes with it in the first weeks.  I revel at the dedication it takes because breastfeeding isn't fun, particularly in the beginning.  The enjoyment comes, at least for me, later on once we've grown accustomed to one another and babe has figured out their latch. 

It makes me think of those Tribal women on the front of National Geographic with a baby nursing from their lap.  The image I have is one of a malnourished woman often with a toddler latched on.  It looks painful as her breast hangs from the child's mouth.  But how else would that baby thrive?  Where else would it's food come from in a world where food is sparse?

The mother is...Intentional.  Dedicated.  The baby is...Fed.

As moms we look to our futures with our children with happy hearts at all the joys they bring to our lives.  But it isn't until we're in the thick of parenting that we realize how hard it is.  The sacrifice that's required of us so that our children thrive and are healthy and fed. 

Being a mom is a joy.  But it hurts sometimes, too.

No one tells us girls that when we're stuffing bridal magazines and baby names in our keepsake boxes.

Yet, with all the physical pain nursing can bring, and all the emotional and spiritual pain I know I'll feel as my girls grow, I look down at my babe and peace has overcome her.  My milk is calming her very being.  Filling her tummy and making her sleepy.  She clings to my shirt with one hand.  And a smirk crosses her little face.  Contentment to the max.  Happiness like nothing we've ever known.  She's safe...she's fed and she knows it.

This makes me think of my relationship to Jesus.

How painful was it for Him to carry that cross to Calvary.  And then hang there on it, bound and nailed at both His hands and feet?  How painful was it for Him to bare my sin.  And your sin.  Everyone's sin from begining to end, right there in His sinless body?  And finally, how painful was it for the Son to feel that inevitable seperation from the Father as He took on our every indescretion?

Pain is nothing that Jesus hasn't felt right along side of us.

And how intent is He that we live in relationship to Him?  How dedicated is He that we thrive and are whole and healthy?

It is His biggest wish that we find joy and peace...contentment and nourishment in His love and grace.

For me, to sit and nurse for an hour, though tiring, is nothing if it's for my girl.  But to sit in the presence of my Lord for 15 minutes a day so as to be fed myself...well, I just can't find the time.

If I could speak for Jesus, I would guess He yearns to look down on us, clinging to His robe looking peaceful and calm.  Full spirits and full hearts.  Smiling...knowing that we are safe and cared for.

He does for His children just as we do for our own.

I know I'm in the habit of not making Him my habit.  I know I will make any sacrifice for my children, but I have yet to make a sacrifice for my God.  And now, as a mother of two, it's a realization I'm even more aware of.  To be the mom I so long to be, it's time these sacrifices be made.  And allowing Jesus to feed me is the first step.