Endless Alleluia

“There’s nothing better, there’s nothing better, there’s nothing better than this right now.”

I sang it to John through tear soaked eyes and with an empty heart. Motherhood sure has a way to knock you down and keep you humble.

My normal 7pm-7am perfect sleeper was still wide awake at 3am and had been screaming for 4 hours non stop. I was tired, he was tired, and I was replaying every decision I had made that day… “should I have let him nap earlier? Is what he ate for dinner hurting his tummy? I don’t feel his molars coming through but maybe they are?”

I had lugged in a rocking chair from the front porch and rocked my baby as I held him close and sang to him with my hoarse, shaky voice. This song was what rolled off of my lips, but I definitely did NOT feel the peace and praise that the words brought. Fighting through tears and exhaustion, I continued to sing. As the hours kept passing, I felt John’s body relax into mine as I felt the heavy weight start to lift from my shoulders.

I began to realize that all of the things I was seeing as a burden, were all of the very things I had prayed for years prior.

Being quarentined in Guatemala? There was a time in my life that I’d have given anything to do that. Yet here I was, already forgetting of the blessing of all that God had provided to get us here.

The old wooden rocking chair that felt so uncomfortable after 4 hours of rocking? It was a precious and prized possession that Bryan’s parents bought us specifically for our front porch in Guatemala. I had a place to sit, yet here I was complaining that I had to sit in it instead of in my bed.

The screaming inconsolable baby? At one point we didn’t know if children were possible for us. Yet here in my arms I felt the tiny, tangible, miraculous blessing of having a son. I traced my finger over his tiny nose and sweet little lips and watched him sleep soundly and safely in my arms.

Man, I felt like such a mess. How quickly I can forget about every precious detail in my life when I allow my focus to be shifted from praise to provocation… even right now, in the middle of the mission field and on Easter weekend when my mind should be focused as ever on The Lord, all I wanted to do was wallow in my frustration / fatigue / whatever it was.

This story doesn’t really have an end, as that part is still unfolding. Just as Psalm 30:5 days, our sorrows may last for the night, but JOY comes in the morning. Yes, I got John back to sleep… and Bryan was so kind to take dad duty the following morning so I could sleep in. But I share this in transparency, knowing that some of you too may be complaining about the very things that you’ve prayed for.  Lord, renew my mind. Help me to be ever focused on You and all You have done for me.

But even in my moments of forgetfulness, stubbornness, and complaining… this much I know is true.

My sin was nailed to the cross.

Along with my doubt

My hurt

My past

My mistakes

The hateful things I’ve said

The hurtful things I’m done

The painful thoughts I’ve had

Jesus died for me, knowing the evilness of my heart, yet He still calls me beloved. He calls me redeemed. He calls me worthy. In these moments where the world seems incredibly unstable, place your trust in the one who is unshakeable.

I am loved, and so are you. And oh, how I pray you know that and believe that, especially in a time such as this.

-Whitney

Easter 2020 : the time we ate steak, cheesecake, and used it as an excuse to put on real clothes and walk outside.