Soul Rest

You ever have those days where you do all the things? I knew that yesterday was going to be one of those days. It was a long drive, a birthday celebration, lots of walking, lots of treats and treat food, then more driving, then groceries (I actually had to go into the store and buy my own groceries, ick…at Walmart. Shiver down my spine...), then home to make dinner, etc., etc. We sat down to dinner at 7 O' clock and I was quite pleased with myself. Did it. Yes, it was over an hour later than usual dinner time, but it actually wasn't as bad as I expected it to be. After dinner, my husband and I chatted while the girls got some good outside time. Usually we start the bedtime process around 7:30 pm (did I mention that the alarm clock goes off at 4:30 am? Just checking.), so the girls were on bonus playtime. Then we finally called them in at 8 pm and sent them off to get ready for bed.

This is where my youngest got on the struggle bus. We had talked about maybe playing one of the new games that she had gotten for her birthday and she thought that was still on the table. But it was 8 O' clock. She had been dying to play since she got it a few days earlier and we just kept running out of day. Like we did again. We tried to reason with her that she had run off and used her time outside. I don't know if she was overly tired or if everything in her just truly needed to play that game, but her syncopated sobbing and crocodile tears just broke my mommy heart. It was already late after a long day and we were all trying to get back on a good sleep/wake schedule (like always). She cried through brushing her teeth, flopped herself in bed and covered her head with her new heating blanket. When I finished buttoning up the house I had to dig my sweaty little munchkin out from her heat saoked down comforter. What was reavealed was a downcast little lamb. Normally, my youngest is just pure joy. It is who God made her. But not this night. This night, her spark had gone. I hugged her, I kissed her, I tried so hard to make her laugh. We talked about how we would definitely play tomorrow and she reluctantly accepted and agreed like a good girl. But she did not smile. The corner of her mouth turned in an attempt, but she was hurt; her twinkle had been robbed and nothing was working to bring it back. I kissed both girls, conflicted about standing my ground or making myself available to love her the way she needed in that moment. I got all the way to my room, brushed my teeth and washed my face. Angst. Mommy angst. Then I told my husband, “I think this is one of those times where I need to do the thing. I'm going to go play a round of her new game with her.”

I crept back into her room and dangled the game in front of her and asked, “will you play with me?” That was it. That did it. She shot out of bed and hugged me. It was an hour past my bedtime at this point, but what I needed to do that night was tell her that I loved her...with a game, with my time. Over and over she said, in her sweetest little voice that she uses when she feels especially lovey, “thanks for playing with me mommy.” She followed every other show of gratitude with a squeezy hug and that little freckled face looked up at me with hearts in her eyes... there is no way to describe it. When you know that you have loved your kid in the way that only you can and that their bucket is full to the brim because of the choice that you made...? Worth it. What's a little sleep deprivation anyway? One more speed bonus round and she happily tucked into bed, love bucket full, content and ready to willingly float off to dreamland.

Next, I smooched my oldest who was deep into drawing land by now and headed off to wind down with my library book before going to sleep myself.

It was a good book, reminded me of Pride and Prejudice. Just one more chapter. Last one. Okay, this one for sure though...

Thirty minutes later...my oldest came into the room. “Can I sleep in here?” Some yucky Halloween images had apparently snuck into our world and disrupted her ability to calmly slip off to sleep. “Sure, sweetie.” She gratefully tucked herself into the extra sleeping bag next to the bed . As I glanced down I saw that she had propped up her latest amazing drawing creation next to her sleep spot and was contentedly gazing upon it as she prepared to doze off.

I finally put my book down and got up to use the restroom once last time before calling it a night. As I came back into the room, she stood tall, oh so tall, right outside the bathroom door. “I'm hungry!”

“Okay, you can have some milk, banana or peanut butter, but I'm not hanging out.” I tried to sound firm. “Okaaay,” she reluctantly accepted, “but I don't like to be alone,” she trailed off as she looked down. So I stood in the kitchen with my eyes closed and arms around my tall, beautiful goldilocks while she licked peanut butter and slurped milk in my face. I think my body was already starting the first stage of falling asleep; I got shorter. She finished and went to take care of her cup and spoon. I leaned on the wall and ran my finger along one of the many Bible verses on the walls of our house, this one at the corner of the kitchen by the light switch. I was ready to kill the lights asap. I sleepily ran my finger along Matthew 11:28-30...

“Come to Me all who are weary and heavy-laden...”

I chuckled. Yea...check.

“And I will give you rest.”

He says He will give me rest. I ached for rest.

“Take My yoke upon you and learn from Me...”

Learn from Me, from “My example” I felt in my heart. Did Jesus turn the children away? Did Jesus make sleep His priority? Or did He face many tired and hungry days willingly and joyfully so that He could do His Father's will and minister to His children. “Learn from Me.” How did I love?

“For I am gentle and humble in heart.”

Jesus doesn't get snappy or short-fused. He would have gently pulled her in and loved her in her humanness, in her need, in her vulnerability.

“...and you will find rest for your souls.”

Big. Deep. Sigh. I let the corner of the wall hold me up and I opened the depths of my spirit to this “soul rest”. Physical sleep may or may not come, I had learned that (see my blog “Quitting Coffee”), but this soul rest? He promises to give it if we come to Him. I want soul rest.

“For My yoke is easy and My burden is light.”

Easy. Light. It is not hard to play a game with basic addition and it does not require skill or extreme stamina to stand in the kitchen and sniff peanut butter. It is not a difficult thing to be present and love my kids, but it is a choice that I have to make minute by minute, day by day, often times over my own comfort or fleshly desires.

“Thank You, Lord.”

We turned off the kitchen lights, prayed once more and turned ourselves into fluffy burritos. As we closed our eyes, I heard once more, “Thanks mommy. I love you.” “I love you too baby.”

I snuggled into my bed and exhaled the same sigh of contentment I had heard over an hour earlier.

Soul rest. It was 11 O' clock, but my bucket was full. Because I had filled theirs.

Just as much as my kids need me to take the time to love them, I NEED to pour out my love upon them. I need to walk in my purpose as the only one in all of history who was chosen to be their mom. Me. It's my job, that I was created for and there is nothing, nothing at all that compares to the full bucket of knowing that I went to bed with children who were well loved today and they know it.

Praise Jesus. Thank you for Your words that brought me to this amazing restful place of Truth.

It wasn't just another night of staying up too late. It was a night well spent.

This is my purpose.