New Mom

What Isn’t There

On one wall of my kitchen hangs a dry erase board. It’s terribly handy for keeping track of things or leaving notes for one another. My kids think it’s also great for drawing on.

This morning, Jessica was sitting on the counter drawing on my board. “Look, Mommy!” she said. “Look at the kitty I drew.”

I looked at the board and saw nothing but blue scribbles. I don’t mean that she had drawn poorly. I mean she had literally scribbled in wide swaths across the board.

“Uh…” I said.

“Look at the erased part,” Jessica said.

I tried again to see what she wanted me to see, and suddenly, I saw it. In the midst of the blue scribbles were some eraser marks, as if she had taken the corner of the eraser and used it like a marker to create (by erasing) a drawing in the midst of the scribbles. And sure enough, when I looked at the erased parts, the drawing of a kitty was clear.

“I see it!” I said excitedly, and Jessica smiled.

It’s understandable that I didn’t see the kitty right away. When you’re asked to look at something someone has drawn, you usually look at what is there rather than what isn’t.

The only problem is, sometimes what isn’t there is what you’re supposed to see.

We moms are experts at seeing what is there in front of us. The messy house, the misbehavior, the logistics of having to get all the kids ready to go somewhere—we see those, all right. But do we see what isn’t there?

Right now, as I write, my 8-month-old son Timmy is pulling up on my desk chair. That’s what is there. What isn’t there is his newborn cry, his blinking bewilderedly at a world he can barely see, or his wobbly attempts to push himself up when he’s lying flat on his stomach. Those things don’t happen anymore because he’s grown out of them.

But I haven’t. I still remember cuddling him against my chest when he was fresh and new, only seconds old. I miss some of the things that no longer happen, even though I rejoice that Timmy is growing as God meant him to.

Other things that are no longer here, I don’t miss. For example, I still need to discipline my children when they’ve done something wrong (obviously). But the discipline issues have changed. This morning, I was frustrated about a particular issue with my oldest daughter, Ellie. This issue does indeed need to be dealt with, because it’s here. But what’s not here anymore is her tattling. She’s grown past that, thank God. She’s learned how to handle things in a more mature way.

The point is simply this: sometimes we need to see what’s not there as well as what is. Even though enjoying present moments is important, it’s also valuable to remember pleasant memories that have gone before. We can give God thanks and praise not only for what’s happening now, but for what’s been happening all along.

We also need to remember the negative things that were once here but no longer. It’s easy to focus on all the things we’re dealing with in the present, but it’s also helpful and encouraging to remember all the things we no longer have to deal with that once seemed like they would be endless. Yes, we’re still working on plenty of areas, but we’ve conquered even more.

Ultimately, the purpose of remembering—whether lovely things that resulted in precious memories, or not-so-lovely things that have ceased to happen—is to turn our eyes to God. You see, He is always at work, sometimes behind the scenes, sometimes out in front. Nothing stays the same forever, and someday, some of those pleasant moments you now enjoy will have moved on, to be replaced by something else. Likewise, the things you struggle with now will be only memories.

So, yes, live in the moment. Enjoy what’s going on, or deal with it, as the case may be. But don’t forget to see what isn’t there. Sometimes it’s just as important as what is.

John 5:17—Jesus said to them, “My Father is always at his work to this very day, and I, too, am working.”

Almost Ten Already

Recently, I was invited to speak to two moms’ groups in another state. I was aware that the coordinator had been trying to put this together for awhile now, and I was excited to hear that everything had been worked out. Unfortunately, I had to decline the date they offered me and request a different date if possible. Why? Because on the day I would have had to fly out, my oldest daughter Ellie will turn 10.

I can hardly believe she’s almost ten already. Almost double digits, despite the fact I gave birth to her only last week. She’s growing up, and I’m not sure where the last 9+ years have gone, but I do know they’ve gone by too fast.

At 9, Ellie is halfway toward leaving home and going to college. She’s more than halfway toward getting her driver’s license. And she’s probably only a few years from the changes that will signal her body is becoming a woman’s body instead of a girl’s.

I vividly remember bringing her home from the hospital after she was born, setting her carrier down in our large brown recliner (nicknamed “Old Faithful”) and thinking, “Now what do we do with her?” Yet that little baby is halfway to being an adult. She’s grown and changed, and that’s great. I want that for her. But sometimes I wish she were still small enough to hold easily in one arm.

Actually, Ellie’s not the only one who’s grown and changed over the past nine-and-a-half years. I have too. Motherhood grows you like nothing else will. But I’ve been growing and changing for a lot longer than I’ve been a mom.

I, too, started out as a little baby (though my kids don’t quite grasp this fact). I’m now a 41-year-old woman and a mom of five. Just the changes involved in getting from that particular point A to that point B are incredible! But they’re not the only changes I’ve experienced. In fact, they’re probably not even the most significant.

You see, my character’s been growing and changing as long as my physical body has because God’s been working on me. Before God formed me in my mother’s womb, He knew the qualities He would place within me, the weaknesses as well as the strengths. When I was born, He began to use all the circumstances of my life that He had planned out to develop me as a person into the precious creation He had in mind since before time began.

Yet when I look back, I usually notice my imperfections first. Maybe you do too. It’s easy to look back and see the things I’ve done wrong and the ways I’ve failed. It’s super-duper-easy, as my kids would say, to be aware of my struggles and the things I’m still working on. Rarely do I consider the ways in which I’ve grown.

For example, I still struggle with patience at times. Yet I’m quite certain that the amount of patience I now have as the mother of 5, even though I’m imperfect, is more than the amount of patience I had before I had children. I’m also 100% sure that even though I sometimes struggle with being critical, I’m more far more encouraging now than I used to be. When I think about it, I can see how far I’ve come in several areas.

I’m sure you can see the same. Maybe you don’t trust God as fully as you would like to, but you’ve come a long way since the day you first realized you needed to trust Him more. Or maybe you get frustrated for no good reason sometimes (don’t we all?), but these incidents are fewer and farther between than they were several years ago.

I know it’s far easier to focus on our imperfections rather than on how far we’ve come. Satan loves it when we do that. Why? Because when we focus on our imperfections, our eyes are on ourselves. But when we look back at what God has done in our lives—when we consider the countless times God has helped us and realize how far He has brought us—we’re filled with love and gratitude.

True, we need to acknowledge where we fall short. But we must not do so to the exclusion of remembering the progress we have made because of God’s help, and the constant loving Presence He has been in our lives, despite the fact that we weren’t perfect.

In what area have you come far, mom? In what way are you closer to holiness now than you were some time ago? Don’t get caught up in saying, “Oh, I still have so far to go.” Maybe you do. I know I do in some areas, and I’m not suggesting either one of us excuse our sins. But let’s not forget to celebrate what God has done for us in bringing us this far. Let’s celebrate the works of the Lord and His goodness toward us.

What works of the Lord in your life do you need to celebrate today?

Psalm 66:5—Come and see what God has done, how awesome his works in man’s behalf!

1 Samuel 7:12—Then Samuel took a stone and set it up between Mizpah and Shen. He named it Ebenezer, saying, “Thus far has the LORD helped us.”

Earprints

My son Timmy is now 3.5 months old, despite the fact it seems like I gave birth to him only yesterday. He’s lost that newborn look and is turning into, well, a little boy. He’s full of smiles, and he’s learning to reach out and grasp things (and then bring them to his mouth and gnaw on them with his drooly, toothless gums). Not too far in the future, he’ll be walking and talking. One day, he’ll start school, and all too soon after that, he’ll be asking for the keys to the car. Some days, I can feel time slipping through my fingers, and in those moments, I wish I could simply stop time forever and keep him just like he is right now.

Oh, I know he needs to grow up. I just don’t want him to do it too fast. So as the days sneak by, I try to hold a little piece of each one in my memory for later.

One of the things I most want to remember is the feel of him in my arms while he sleeps. I love cuddling him close as he rests, utterly secure and at peace. And I really love it when he leaves ear prints.

Timmy SleepingWhat are ear prints? They’re indentations in my arm, up near the elbow, in the shape of his ear, pressed into my skin by the gentle weight of his head lying trustingly against me. Why do I love them? Because they’re visible evidence of the moments of bonding and love my son and I have shared. Because they remind me of how much I love my Timmy, and how much he loves me.

This devotion could have been about how we can lie securely in God’s arms, trusting in His care and comfort. But it isn’t. It’s about the marks.

You see, just as Timmy leaves marks on me because of our relationship, so we have left marks on the body of Almighty God because of our relationship with Him.

God doesn’t have a body, you might say.

True, the Father doesn’t. But Jesus does. And upon His body, He still bears visible signs of His bond with us.

Jesus had nails driven through His hands and feet so He could hold us in His arms. He had a spear thrust into His side because of His love for us. And now, even in His risen body, He bears permanent reminders of the price of our relationship Him.

So yes, rest trustingly in His arms. Yes, be secure in Him. But don’t forget His wounds. It cost Jesus something to love us. In fact, it cost Him everything.

Isaiah 53:5—But he was wounded for our transgressions; he was crushed for our iniquities; upon him was the chastisement that brought us peace, and with his stripes we are healed.

Letter to a New Mom

Dear New Mom,

Thank you for taking the time to read this letter. I know your free time is at a premium right now, so I won’t keep you for very long. But there are some things my heart longs to communicate to yours—things I wish I had understood better when I was a new mom. Things which, if you can grasp them now, will make this crazy, wonderful, intense new venture of motherhood even sweeter and richer. Maybe a little calmer and more peaceful, too.

You see, I know how you feel as a new mom. I well remember the feeling of holding my first child, a daughter, in my arms and being overwhelmed with love for her. I didn’t even know I was capable of such love until I met her. I love her so much I would die for her, if necessary. I’d throw myself in harm’s way without a second thought if it meant I could save her. And what I wish I’d realized at the time is that my love for my daughter is a mere reflection of how much God the Father loves me. In fact, God not only would sacrifice Himself for me and you, but He did. John 3:16 tells us that Jesus died on the cross so that you didn’t have to. Why? For the glory of God, certainly. But also because He loved you. Yes, God Almighty loves you that much. So when you hold your precious baby in your arms, think about that. That love you feel welling up in you, threatening to burst your heart? It’s but a fraction of the powerful love God feels for you.

Another thing I wish I’d known as a new mom is that motherhood is hard enough without worrying about being perfect. I know that you so badly want to get things right, and I understand why that is. You love your child. But here’s what I wish I had known: Getting things right as a whole doesn’t mean you have to get things perfect in every detail. If that were true, we’d all be doomed for sure. I made mistakes. You will make mistakes. There’s simply no way around it, because you are a human being. But the great news is this: God doesn’t require you to know everything. He knows you’re not God, and He has promised to give you wisdom whenever you ask (James 1:5). The secret is to keep asking rather than trying to muddle through on your own. You already know that you can’t do it but that He can. So ask for wisdom, and keep asking. I’ve prayed more since having children than in all my pre-child years put together. I bet you will find the same thing.

Speaking of talking to God, I wish I’d known what staying in touch with Him as a mom would look like. I naively assumed that it would look exactly the same as in my pre-child days, if I just tried hard enough. But if you’ve been a mom for longer than ten minutes, you already know that babies are unpredictable. They don’t always fit neatly into a schedule that allows you large, unbroken blocks of time for prayer and reflection. Even if they do, you’re probably too tired to take full advantage of that time. But God doesn’t intend for your times with Him to look exactly the same as they used to. He is calling you to a different season in life, and one of the many lessons He intends for you during this time is to learn to relate to Him in a new way. You will learn to see and hear God in the midst of everything. Just as God formerly spoke to His servants through things like harvests, seeds, and sheep, so He still speaks to us through common, everyday items. This means that He uses things like diaper changes, bath time, and even unexpected things like racquetballs (that was an interesting object lesson for me) to teach you things in a very real, relevant way. So yes, keep reading your Bible. Keep praying. Absolutely, on both counts. But remember that your new life doesn’t entirely look like your old one, and your quiet times won’t either. That’s okay. Be open to the new thing God wants to do (Isaiah 43:19).

There’s one more thing I would like to tell you before you go, and that’s this: It’s okay to ask for help. It really is. There will be times when you’re so exhausted you want to cry. There will be times when you’re so frustrated you want to scream. Or cry. You can expect there to be times when you’re bored, lonely, or worried. Maybe even all three at the same time. When you feel like that, remember that it’s okay to ask for help. You are not supposed to be able to do it all alone. Many times we moms think we should be able to do everything ourselves if we just try hard enough and pray hard enough. That’s simply not true. Satan would love to have you believe that it is, for if he can separate you from God and other Christians, he’s got you right where he wants you. On the other hand, God says that a cord of three strands is not quickly broken (Ecclesiastes 4:12). So don’t be afraid to call a friend or mentor for help. In fact, I recommend that you make a list of a few names and numbers right now. You will need these women. God made us to need one another, and there’s no way around it. You should never feel ashamed or embarrassed for needing other moms. After all, God didn’t make you to walk alone.

Precious new mom, if you and I lived close together, I’d invite you over for coffee and dessert, or maybe a smoothie if you don’t do coffee. We’d sit at the table together, with me holding your precious baby so you could eat with your hands free for once, and we’d talk. About anything and nothing. About things that matter and things we won’t remember next week. I’d ask you how you were doing, and I’d really listen to your answer, because I’d want to show you that it’s not only your baby who matters; you still matter too. But since we don’t live just blocks apart, maybe not in the same state or even country, I wrote you this letter instead. There’s so much more I would say if I could, but this is enough for now. You have plenty to think about. I’ll trust God to bring these words home to you in whatever way He deems best.

Hugs to you and to your precious little one. Until we meet, whether here on this earth or in heaven, I’ll continue to pray for you. May I pray a blessing over you right now? “The LORD bless thee, and keep thee: The LORD make his face shine upon thee, and be gracious unto thee: The LORD lift up his countenance upon thee, and give thee peace” (Numbers 6:24-26), both now and forevermore. Amen.

With much love,
Megan's Signature

Right Now!

My life has become even more immeasurably rich since giving birth to our second son (our fifth child) two weeks ago. Timmy is a cuddly, lovable little boy. Already, he’s starting to lose the newborn look. He’s eating well and filling out a little. He even sleeps well (thank you, God!).

Sometimes, when Timmy wakes up, he does so gradually, squiggling and squirming and making soft, intermittent noises. If I don’t feed him soon enough, he’ll fuss, then escalate to full-out crying. Other times, Timmy knows immediately that he’s hungry, and he goes from zero (sleep) to 60 (awake and crying) in just a few seconds. When he’s that hungry, only eating will satisfy him. He wants his food right now!

I’ve written before about this week’s verse, and how we are to desire spiritual food—God’s Word—as strongly as my newborn son desires his food. But this week, I want to take this verse in a little bit different direction. The verse says that we Christians are to desire God’s Word in the same way as little babies desire milk. Last time, I took that to mean we should long for our Bibles as strongly as babies want their food. That’s still true. But this time, I want us to realize that we must also desire the Scriptures as constantly as babies desire breast or bottle.

You see, despite the fact my son is only two weeks old, I’ve already fed him well more than 100 times. It wasn’t good enough to feed him the first time, then once last week, once this week, etc. No, Timmy wants to be fed regularly. He doesn’t go very long before he knows with everything in him that it’s time to eat again.

On the other hand…we often go quite awhile between times of reading or studying God’s Word. A week passes without our Bible, and we’re not bothered by that. Sometimes, even longer passes, and instead of craving God’s Word more and more, we crave it less and less. We become used to not having it. We fill the space the Bible should occupy with other things: childcare, recreation, even church activities.

We simply don’t desire God’s Word as we should.

I know that all too often, I’ve often been inconsistent with my quiet time. Perhaps you have, too. Why? We both know regular study of the Bible is important. We both agree we should engage in it. So why don’t we?

Ultimately, what it often comes down to is that we don’t really believe it’s as important as we say we do. We don’t feel the need. Yes, family and homemaking responsibilities can make it pretty difficult to find time for regular study. But if we really believed it was important, we’d make time. No matter how busy we are, we could always find five minutes per day, except on rare occasions. Yes, it can be difficult to know how to study. But if we really thought studying was important, we’d find someone to teach us how to study, or we’d at least give it our best shot. But we don’t. Studying the Bible isn’t really as important to us as we say it is.

I encourage you to consider whether this might be true in your life. Is it possible that the reason you don’t study regularly is because you don’t really desire to?

I have to admit that this has been true of me at times. There have been times when, because life was going so well (or just because it was so busy), I’ve forgotten how much I need the Bible. I need to hear God speaking to me through His Word. So do you. If we don’t see the dire necessity of Bible study, we’re right where Satan wants us. He well knows that in order to bear fruit, we must be connected to the vine. So if He can get us to think we don’t really need one of the primary means of connection, he’s thrilled. He knows the power of the Word and is quite satisfied for us to ignore that power.

I don’t want to please Satan; I want to please God. I know you do, too. So if your heart doesn’t strongly and frequently desire Scripture, I encourage you to pray and ask God to change your heart. There’s not really a way to muster up the desire on our own. We need Him to help us long for His Word like He knows we should. Like my son longs to be fed, even when he only ate a little while ago.

So yes, desire God’s Word strongly. But also desire it frequently. If it’s been too long since you really wanted to open your Bible, ask God to help you want to. Then do it. If you don’t know how, find someone who can give you some ideas.

And next time you hear a baby cry, ask yourself, “How long has it been since I desired God’s Word like this baby wants to be fed?”

1 Peter 2:2—As newborn babes, desire the sincere milk of the word, that ye may grow thereby.

Giving Birth

Today, about 8:15 a.m. (give or take), I will give birth to our fifth child, a son. How can I pinpoint the time so accurately? I’m having a planned C-section. So unless Baby Timothy decides to make an appearance early (which I wouldn’t mind at all), I know the date and time when he will be born.

At the appointed hour, he will be lifted from my womb into the world, and I will get to meet him and rejoice in his presence. Over the last several months, my anticipation has built until now, I can hardly wait.

As I thought recently about how much I look forward to his arrival, I realized that God knows how I feel. Not just because He knows me intimately and can see everything about my emotions, but because He has given birth too—millions of times.

Obviously God does not have a female, physical body as I do. But He has indeed given life to a vast number of children, bringing them into the world at the appointed day and time. Just as He has determined when my son will be born, He also determined when all of His sons and daughters would be born.

I’m speaking, of course, about all those whom He has made His children through their faith in His Son. Each of us Christians was “born” at just the right time, which God had planned beforehand. But there is an important difference between my son’s birth and the birth of God’s children. My son is currently alive. When he is born, he will still be alive, but now outside my body. The difference is that before we were born into God’s spiritual family, we were dead. Not just alive somewhere else, but dead. Yet God, in His grace and mercy, brought us to life and transferred us from the kingdom of death into the kingdom of His Son, making us His children.

Unlike me, God has the power to transfer someone not only from inside a body to outside, but from death to life. So as excited as I am about my son’s birth, how much more thrilled must God be about His children’s births? All the time I have spent preparing for and anticipating my son’s arrival is nothing compared to what God did in preparation for my arrival, or yours. I’ve set up a nursery for my son; God is even now preparing an eternal home in heaven for His children. I bought some clothes made mostly out of cotton; God readied clothing of righteousness. I bought a small bathtub; God provided His Word and the blood of Jesus for cleansing His children. And although people usually don’t have baby showers for fifth babies (though I am being blessed with one this time), God always celebrates the arrival of His children.

The Bible tells us that there is joy in heaven over one sinner who repents. “Joy” doesn’t mean just a little bit of happiness, as if God were saying, “That’s nice.” Joy means a huge, heavenly celebration over what God has done and over a new child born into God’s family—a celebration that’s far beyond even the most elaborate earthly baby shower.

So as I make final preparations for Timmy’s arrival; as I arrive at the hospital and give birth; and as I receive congratulations from family and friends for my beautiful son, I will remember.

I’ll remember God’s marvelous work at granting life to so many children, and I’ll praise Him.

I’ll meditate on how, though I love my son with all my heart, God loves His children even more, and I’ll thank Him.

I’ll experience joy over my son’s birth and remember that there was a heavenly party at my spiritual birth, and I’ll worship.

Will you think about these things too, in relation to you and your children? Will you spend time contemplating God’s majesty and goodness and let those qualities move you to adoring Him?

You see, as much as I love my children and you love yours, God loves us even more. Perhaps that is most incredible of all—that He loves us. Think about His love. Ask Him to help you grasp even the tiniest corner of it, and let it move you to profound gratitude and love for Him in return.

Ephesians 2:1, 4-6—And you were dead in the trespasses and sins in which you once walked….But God, being rich in mercy, because of the great love with which he loved us, even when we were dead in our trespasses, made us alive together with Christ—by grace you have been saved—and raised us up with him and seated us with him in the heavenly places in Christ Jesus.

Luke 15:7—Just so, I tell you, there will be more joy in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who need no repentance.

1 John 3:1—See what kind of love the Father has given to us, that we should be called children of God; and so we are.

It’s A Girl!

When I became pregnant with my first child, I couldn’t wait for THE ultrasound—the one that would tell me if my baby was a boy or a girl. It seemed like forever before I lay on the exam table, my belly exposed, and the technician squirted some gel on it (which they must have been keeping in the refrigerator, because it was cold). She began spreading the gel around with the ultrasound sensor, taking various pictures and measurements as she first made sure my baby was healthy and growing normally.

Then, she paused. “Okay,” she said, “now let’s see if we can find out whether this baby is a boy or a girl.” Please, God, I prayed. Show us.

But Baby kept sticking a foot in the way. Finally, the tech said she thought she knew, but she wanted to get a second opinion from another tech because she hadn’t been able to get an entirely clear view. The second tech agreed with her. “Do you want to know if it’s a boy or a girl?” the first tech asked.

“Oh, yes,” we answered.

“It’s a girl,” she said. We were thrilled.

Over the course of the next five months, I made preparations for the arrival of our precious new daughter. I decorated the nursery in beautiful pastel butterflies and flowers. I stored up tiny pink clothes in her dresser and closet. I bought her toys.

But the anticipation of Ellie’s arrival was nothing compared to what I felt upon seeing her for the first time. “It’s a girl!” the doctor announced, and I cried with happiness. When I held her, all neatly swaddled, and looked into her tiny, perfect face, my joy grew even deeper. I could hardly believe such a beautiful, complete little person was mine.

My husband and I were beyond proud. We called everyone we knew so they could celebrate with us. We wanted the world to know about our beloved daughter, Ellie. It’s a girl!

You know the same joy if you were blessed with a beautiful experience for the arrival of your first child (whether by birth or adoption). You know how it feels to rejoice at God’s marvelous gift to you, far beyond what you ever thought you were capable of. You’ve probably thought, as I have, about how the angels in heaven, and God Himself, rejoiced with you when your baby was born.

But have you ever realized that God rejoiced the same way when you were born?

It’s easy to imagine all heaven rejoicing over the birth of our children. It’s harder to imagine that same level of celebration when we were born. But it’s true. The Bible clearly and emphatically states that God rejoices over us with singing. When did that begin?

When you and I took our first breath, heaven rejoiced. When we cried our first cry, the morning stars sang together. When our mother held us for the first time, the angels shouted for joy. It’s a girl!

And God Himself took us in His arms and whirled around with us, laughing and singing with joy. I have a daughter!

What’s absolutely, incredibly amazing is that He still feels the same way about us today. Yes, He knows we’ve sinned, and will sin again in the future. But His delight in us isn’t based upon our actions, but upon the fact that He created us. We are magnificent examples of His handiwork, and that will never change. He may be less than pleased with some of our actions, but He delights in us.

And just as we wanted everyone around us to rejoice with us in the arrival of our child, God wants everyone around us to rejoice in the fact that we are here. We are far more precious to Him even than our children are to us. When we feel pleasure in our children, or delight, what we feel is only a shadow of what God feels not only for them, but for us.

The next time you find yourself delighting in your child, remember that God delights even more in you. The next time you say, marveling, “That’s my child!” remember that God is even more proud of you. She’s mine, He says, pointing you out to His Son and Spirit and all the angels. That’s my girl!

His words are the echoes of what He said when you were born. When the time came for your arrival, He was the ultimate proud Father waiting to announce you to the world. He couldn’t wait for you to be born so you could begin your life under His watchful care, and one day, grow to love Him. And when you left your mother’s body and entered this life, He rejoiced with all the joy Almighty God is capable of—and maybe even with tears of happiness in His eyes.

Look! He shouted joyfully. It’s a girl!

Job 38:4-7—”Where were you when I laid the earth’s foundation? Tell me, if you understand. Who marked off its dimensions? Surely you know! Who stretched a measuring line across it? On what were its footings set, or who laid its cornerstone—while the morning stars sang together and all the angels shouted for joy?”

Zephaniah 3:17—He will take great delight in you, he will quiet you with his love, he will rejoice over you with singing.

Helpless

My daughter, Lindsey, is pretty independent. At three and a half, she’s already been able to make her own PB&J sandwiches for months now. She likes to do things on her own, thank you, or at least give it a good, hard try before admitting she needs help.

I love this about her. She’s so very competent, and she can accomplish far more than she would otherwise be able to because of her can-do attitude.

I remember one time, though, when she was about three and a half months old. I heard her crying and went to see what was the matter. Her bice—our term for “pacifier”—had fallen out of her mouth, and she couldn’t figure out how to get it back in. It was obvious that she was trying to reach it, but she couldn’t. She simply didn’t possess the physical skill.

Oh, she possessed the desire, all right. She knew what she wanted and was doing everything in her little baby power to get it. It’s just that her little baby power didn’t amount to enough. She was helpless to accomplish her desire. So she lay there crying, unable to satisfy herself, dependent on someone else to come help her.

In the same way, we need help from God. We, too, are unable to satisfy ourselves. We can try with all our might to reach our goal, but we can’t fulfill our own needs. We may enjoy considerable success in this life and be able to purchase all or most of what we want. But ultimately, we still can’t satisfy ourselves at our deepest level without help.

That’s why God sent Jesus to earth. He knew we needed help. Beginning with Adam and Eve, and continuing with everyone since, the human race had messed ourselves up so badly that we became completely disconnected from ultimate fulfillment, which comes only through relationship with God. Because of our sin, we had cut ourselves off from God, and we were and are completely unable to get back to Him through our own efforts.

We were stumbling around trying to help ourselves and failing, and God would have been completely just in leaving us that way. But He didn’t. In His grace and mercy, He sent His Son Jesus to earth, to be born of a virgin, live a sinless life, and die an undeserved death, taking our punishment upon Himself. And as if removing the punishment of hell weren’t enough, He also offered us complete fulfillment again through a renewed relationship with Him.

We are still helpless to satisfy ourselves. But God Almighty has offered to satisfy us. He saw us floundering and knew we’d never improve our condition on our own, no matter how hard we tried. So He made a way for us to come back and find that perfect fulfillment that we were made to long for, which can be found only in Him.

Just as I saw Lindsey lying helpless in her crib, God looked down from eternity and saw you and me helpless in time, and He came down Himself to help us.

God Himself left His throne to come down and help you. To help me. To help all who will accept the necessity of His Son’s sacrifice on their behalf and acknowledge His lordship in their lives.

Why? For His glory. But also for the same reason I helped Lindsey: love.

I put her pacifier back in her mouth because I loved her and wanted her to have peace.

Jesus came to earth and lived and died for you and me because He wanted us to have peace.

In our helplessness, He gave us the help we needed. And He didn’t just do it once. He continues to do it today and every day.

What incredible love and compassion.

Isaiah 9:2—The people walking in darkness have seen a great light; on those living in the land of the shadow of death a light has dawned.

Matthew 9:36—When he saw the crowds, he had compassion on them, because they were harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd.

Fourth Place

When I became pregnant with my first child, I was ecstatic—not only because I was going to have a baby, but because this pregnancy came after infertility treatments. Throughout my pregnancy, I continued to rejoice. I did all the things many moms do: I registered at Babies “R” Us and Target; I told everyone I knew about my baby; I was given six baby showers; I made arrangements to quit work three weeks before she would be born, in order to become a stay-at-home mom; and I even joined a prenatal fitness class.

Perhaps one of the most meaningful things I did, however, was write letters.

I don’t remember where I had gotten the idea, but I began writing my baby letters shortly after I knew there would be a baby. I wanted to tell her everything, about all the preparations, all the excitement, all the things that happened, and other people’s reactions.

Most of all, I wanted to pour out my love to her.

You see, I loved her even before she was born. As soon as I found out she existed, I loved her with all the mother-love my heart could hold. As my belly grew, so did my love for the little one living inside me. When she was finally born and they put her into my arms, I was amazed at the intensity of the love I already felt for her.

I remember vividly one day in the hospital, holding her in the crook of my arm as she slept, and thinking that if anyone came into my room and tried to hurt my baby, I would defend her with my life.

Why? Because I loved her so much.

When I found out I was pregnant with my second child, I was again elated. But this time I had a new concern.

Would I be able to love my second child as much as I loved my first?

I couldn’t comprehend how I could love any other child, even one of my own, as much as I loved my daughter, considering the all-consuming love I had for her.

You know what happened. When my son was born, I loved him, too—just as much as I loved my daughter. Oh, it took some time for our relationship to become as close as that with my daughter, considering that I had spent eighteen months with her, and had barely known my son. But I loved him every bit as much as I loved her. I don’t know how it happened, but my love for my daughter didn’t lessen. Instead, I somehow had an equal amount of love from my son. I know, of course, that God had put this love in my heart, enabling me to love more than one child.

It was the same way with my third child—that additional love was there, available for her.

It was the same way with my fourth child, too. I don’t love the fourth one less than the first, or the second or the third. She’s not in fourth place. I love them all equally.

Aren’t you glad God loves in the same way? Oh, I’m not saying that I love as perfectly as God loves. Far from it. What I am saying is that I’m very glad that with each additional child that comes into His fold, God has more than enough love to love them, too. He doesn’t love me less than my mom, just because she was “born again” first. Nor does He love my daughter any less than He loves me, just because she was born again later.

Praise God and His magnificent love, He loves us all with the same intense, all-consuming love, no matter where we fall in the birth order.

Think about that for a minute. God’s love is so great and so vast that He has enough love to completely, totally cover every one of his children from the beginning of time up until now, and from now until eternity begins.

Isn’t that an amazing amount of love? And it’s never going to be all used up. No matter how many people become God’s children, His love will never have reached its limit. There is no maximum capacity for God’s love.

I ask again: isn’t that amazing?

Take some time today and meditate on the vastness and completeness of God’s love. Marvel that He extends that love to you, and that He has plenty to extend to your children.

And then pray He will help you to love as He does—completely.

May your love be all the love a child could ever want from an earthly parent, just as God’s love is more than we could ever imagine.

Desiring Milk

I have a precious five-month-old daughter named Jessica. She’s perfect, from the silken top of her little head to the smooth bottoms of her little feet. She has a grin that makes me grin, too, no matter what else is going on in my day. I love to watch her wave her arms and kick her legs when she’s excited, or even when she’s just interested in something. It’s wonderful to cuddle her warm body against my chest and feel her own little chest rising and falling with the soft rhythms of her breathing.

Already, she has learned to smile and laugh. She’s beginning to learn to sit up. She’s working on grasping things and bringing them to her mouth, and she sure knows how to gnaw on my finger once she’s caught it.

There is one thing, however, that she never had to learn because she already knew it, from the moment she was born: what to do when she’s hungry.

When babies begin to be hungry, they start rooting and moving their head around, trying to find a source of nourishment. If they don’t find one soon enough—or if the need, once felt, is too acute—they cry. Sometimes, they scream.

These are not happy little screams of delight that make us smile. These are desperate screams. They are “I’m hungry, and I need food right now!” screams.

When a baby is hungry, everything in her little body cries out for food. The baby is desperate. Young babies don’t understand the concept of “wait”. All they know is that they’re hungry, and they need food right away in order to satisfy the gnawing hunger within.

Friends, are you equally desperate for God’s Word?

The other day, I was feeding my daughter and thinking about how her sole, consuming desire when she’s hungry is for food. Then, I thought about the verse which tells us that we are to desire the milk of God’s Word “as newborn babes”.

I had always understood that verse as meaning that just as newborns need simple milk (or formula), so we need the simple things from God’s word when we are new believers. But that day, I saw the verse in a new light.

It all hinges on the word “as”.

If, in this verse, “as newborn babes” means merely “since you are newborns”, that would indicate that just as human newborns need simple milk, so spiritual newborns need simple truth.

But if “as newborn babes” modifies the word “desire”, it means “in the same way that newborn babies desire their milk”.

Let’s look at how that verse could read. “In the same way that newborn babies desire their milk, you should desire God’s Word so that you can grow.”

So what is the way that newborn babies desire their milk?

Desperately. Immediately. With singular focus.

What would it mean for our spiritual lives if we desired God’s Word desperately, immediately, and with singular focus, just like my daughter desires to be fed when she is hungry?

I confess that I don’t entirely know what this would look like. My desire for the things of God often falls short of where I would like it to be.

I do know this, however: I want to desire God’s Word in that way. I want my soul to hunger for it every bit as much as my daughter’s stomach hungers for milk.

When my daughter’s stomach is full on a regular basis with the right kind of milk, what happens? She grows. When our spirits are full of God’s Word on a regular basis, what happens? We grow, as the rest of the verse says. Could Jessica grow without milk? No.

Can we grow spiritually without God’s Word? No.

What would happen if I neglected to fill my daughter’s stomach? Her physical body would waste away. What happens when we fail to fill our spirits with God’s Word? Our spirits waste away.

We desperately need to make God’s Word a priority in our spiritual lives, for just as the consumption of milk ultimately affects every aspect of a baby’s life, so our ingestion of God’s Word ultimately affects every aspect of our spiritual lives, and many aspects of our earthly lives, too.

What can you or I do if we don’t really desire God’s Word all that much? The place to start is by confessing your lack of desire and asking God to give you a hunger for His Word. Then—and it sounds simple because it is—get into the Word. Start reading. After all, we’re commanded to study God’s Word, and that should be reason enough to do it.

You will find that your desire increases as you do.

1 Peter 2:2—As newborn babes, desire the sincere milk of the word, that ye may grow thereby.