Learning the Hard Way

As a mother, one of the hardest things to do is listen to your baby cry. It is both heart-wrenching and nerve-wracking. I listened to Clayton cry-- hard-- for about 20 minutes this afternoon. He had been taking a nap and woke up crying, I assume, because he lost his pacifier. I did not immediately rush in because I know that babies go through sleep cycles, and I wanted to give him a chance to fall back asleep if that was the case. After 5 minutes of moderate crying, I went in his room and knelt by his bassinet to give him his paci, pat him and calm him. He never stopped crying, but calmed down a bit so I left the room again in hopes that he would tire out and fall asleep quickly. I listened to harder crying for 5 more minutes. It was excruciating to me. I wanted to "fix it" so bad, whatever "it" was. I wanted to cuddle and hold and comfort him. But I knew that what he really needed was sleep. His needs had been met-- he had eaten, had a clean diaper, was not cold or hot... He was exhausted. And he just does not know how to fall asleep on his own. He needs to be taught, needs to figure it out. He also needs to feel safe and secure. It is so hard trying to strike this balance. After those 5 more minutes of crying, I went in to comfort and soothe him again. This time he actually stopped crying, so I left the room, again hoping that he would fall asleep. As soon as I shut the door, he started crying again-- even harder this time. I thought surely after 5 more minutes, he would fall sound asleep. I would not let him cry more than 15 minutes without finally picking him up, rocking, cuddling, calming and comforting him. He was still crying after 5 minutes, 15 minutes total, so I was relieved to pick him up. He was immediately calm in my arms. Everything about him settled-- his tears stopped, his breathing slowed, his body relaxed.

I recount this story not simply to tell a story, but because my eyes were once again opened to the spiritual side of things. Just as Clayton getting shots was best for him, I knew that sleep was what was best for him this afternoon. I knew that on the other side of those tears was rest. I knew that if he could push through whatever "pain" he was experiencing, he would get exactly what he needed. And I knew that the only way for him to get there was through the "pain". He cannot always be rocked and cuddled to sleep; he must learn the skill of sleep for himself. I cannot do it for him. I wish I could, but I cannot.

Once again, I see myself in this experience with Clayton. And I see the Lord. I see that He has had to let me "cry it out", to experience pain and confusion in order to develop and grow me. He has had to teach me skills that I could only learn through "crying". And on the other side of tears, I look back and see exactly why He allowed what He did without intervening. And I know it hurt His heart to listen to me cry, but He knew it was best. I am thankful that He knows best and that I can trust Him. He is good and faithful-- He works all things for my good and His glory.
Several of these lessons include:

• Allowing financial difficulty (cars that are lemons, houses with mold and foundation problems, etc.) to teach me that He will provide for our needs. I struggled through these things but found His goodness and faithfulness through His provision.


• Allowing Clayton and I to struggle through problems with breastfeeding to teach me about hope and faith and perseverance... I understand the Gospel more because of that trial.


• Allowing various changes in my life to teach me about dependence, contentment, His sovereignty...

In each of these things, and many more, I not only know myself better, but I know Him better. And that is my life, "that I may KNOW Christ".