When I am breastfeeding my baby there are a number of things that can potentially happen. The first is that he falls asleep while he is eating. It's pretty cute to watch actually. The second is that he gets his arm exercise in while I'm feeding and basically strokes my chest the whole time. That's fine and dandy, until he also starts working on his grip motion as well, causing his untrimmed little claw-- I mean, nails, to drive into my chest. The third thing is that out of the blue while he's totally happy having a feed, he will unlatch and release a completely spontaneous cry for seemingly no reason at all.
These reactions are why I think that, metaphorically, Babies are Us. When you think about it the mother is the God figure (I am not trying to say that mothers are God) as they provide food and comfort for babies and babies couldn't live without a mom, or mom figure caring for them. In the same way, I believe that we as humans need God to live. We can thank Him for the blessings of sustenance, both physical and spiritual. Yet, thankfulness isn't often our first response. Like my son, as a Christian I have drank greedily from God's word, focusing on its truth and finding peace and rest in it. Those are the best of times, when I don't worry about anything else in my life and I focus on simply being filled by God. As a babes stomach fills with milk, so my heart fills with truth and I am satisfied. Like I said, the best of times. Other times I am more impatient. I get distracted by action and while I drink some truth in, it's hard to be filled when I'm busy clawing at God trying to show Him I'm doing something. My attempts at action are illconcieved and end up hurting more than helping. Much like how my son may be trying to strengthen himself or interact with me as he drinks, at the cost of the skin on my chest. Finally, I will simply say no. In the midst of God's provision for me I turn around and scream in His face. "Why aren't you feeding me?" "Where are you now God?" I shout to the sky. Not realizing, that if I hadn't turned away to cry, I would still be being fed. It's difficult to see my baby spirituality exemplified for me daily. Difficult and poignant. Holding my son up to my face just to have him scream directly into it I think "How many times have I done this to God?" My heart hurts thinking of how I have sabatoged that relationship. But it also gives me hope. For every scream there's a snuggly nap, and for every tear there's a wide toothless grin that pulls a bow across your heartstrings and rings out the most beautiful note. So I arrive once more at that fantastic friend, hope. Becuase I am sure that just as I have hope in my baby to grow, God has hope in me. And if we want to extend the metaphor to diapers... Well let's just say it's good God can put up with a big stink.
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Jordan is...A mother, artist, designer and loyal friend. May this blog bring you hope and a normalization of both emotion and logic. Archives
March 2021
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