Hovering

God gave me a bit of insight today about His character.  He was revealing His fatherly heart towards me, His child, through my own parenting journey.


Today: Scene 1.
Silas has always loved going to the Church nursery.  There's a slide, there's cheerios, there's kids.  It's good.  It's good for him to go.  He rarely has had issues with being separated from us; but that was not the case today. Even before we went to Church he kept saying, "I no wanna go to Church."  When it was time for me to take him to the nursery, before I even took a step with him in my arms, he was crying.  Puffy eyed, red faced, clinging to me.  Every step I took closer he cried louder and louder.  I knew he would be fine.  I knew it was good for him but I was internally in agony having a nursery worker pry him off of me to go 'play.'  Now, was I calloused? Cold-hearted?  Not caring that my beautiful firstborn was so upset?  Why didn't I rescue him?  


Because it was good for him to go.  Yes, it was hard.  Why is it good for him?  Because he needs to know I'll come back to get him.  2 minutes later his face was dry, he was playing happily and loving the nursery, as I knew he would.


How do I know this?  Where was I? As any loving mother would do, I was watching.  My face was pressed up against the nursery window peeking at him.  Was he okay?  Would he be fine on his own?  I was near, I was hovering.


Scene 2:
Toby has been rebelling against sleep lately.  He just will not go down for a nap. He will be so tired and yet all he will do is cry and cry.  Well, we realized that he cries if we are holding him, he cries if he is left in the bassinet, well- he cries if we try and console him or not.  What he really needs is not us holding him, but he needs sleep.  And he cries to sleep whether we hold him or not!  We decided we needed to start 'letting him cry himself to sleep.'  Now, this is not what we'd planned.  We didn't do this with Silas, we hadn't planned to do it with Toby.  But we needed to try it.  Why?  Because it is good for him to learn how to sleep on his own.  So there I was today.  My cute, cuddly, bundle of life screaming, tears streaming, back arching in his bassinet.  "A few more minutes," I told myself, "he will be okay, he will sleep."  Funny enough, he did.  


But where was I?  From his perspective, I probably seemed far away, absent.  Maybe even from his vantage point he may have thought I was uncaring, or distant.  But I was just out of his view, ear pressed against the door, restraining myself from running in to rescue him.  I was near.  I cared.  So much in fact that it hurt to let him cry.  


Why did I do this? Because it is hard for him to learn how to sleep on his own, but it is good.  It's good for him.  


So here I am, contemplating these things on my walk and it hit me:  where do I think God is while I suffer in this life?  Is he far off?  Uncaring?  Absent?  The Bible talks about Him as a faithful father, the best father.  So me, in my wicked sinfulness, in my broken motherhood, if I am doing these hard good things for my children, because I love them, does God not do the same?  In my humanness, in my lack of understanding, I often question God.  I scream, I cry "where are you?"  I wonder about His plan and how He could possibly let me suffer at all.  But maybe, just maybe, it's for my good.  Maybe it's because He loves me.  Maybe it's because He knows what I don't: that some of the hardest stuff is the best.  For me.  


And I don't know if what I am doing for my kids is the best for them.  I don't.  But God does know what the very best is for us. The best.  So shouldn't I trust Him, my perfect Father?  And don't I know that He is near?  SO present for me in my trials?  


He is hovering, like I hover over my children.  Because He loves me.  Because the hard will bring forth the most beautiful things in me.  


So thankful for the things God is teaching me through my children.