Motherhood, Milk and Mercy

Last week, my little boy celebrated his first month of life outside of me. It's hard for me to believe it's already been a month. You always hear parents tell you "It goes by so fast!" and "Enjoy every minute" cause "you're gonna miss this." (Pause and enjoy a moment of sentimentality with good ol' Trace.) But boy, oh boy, it's true! I always thought it was one of those things where your child turns 18, and you're like, "wow, that flew by!" but no, we hit the end of the first week, the first month, and I'm already freaking out cause I feel like he's growing up WAY faster than I want! But I digress.

The point of this post was actually to share with you, dear reader, one of the beautiful and amazing ways that God has taught me about His love for me through my beautiful baby.

You're probably like, "Duh, Joy. Of course that precious little person is teaching you about God's love."  And I figured he would, I just had no idea to what degree it would be!

I could tell you about how, sometimes when I'm up with him in the middle of the night I'm just brought to tears by how much I love this little person and the fact that God loved me enough to make ME his mommy.

I could tell you about how I'm just obsessed with every little thing about him and sometimes just spend hours sitting and staring at him, despite the fact that there's piles of dishes and laundry and God only knows what else, all over our little house. And how it blows my mind that God looks at me with such love.

I could even tell you about how even the grossest and least desirable tasks aren't that hard because it's just a little way that I can care for him and show him my love. How these messes remind me of the mess that I'm in and God's amazing mercy.

But I'm not going to tell you about any of those things.

Instead, I'm going to tell you about milk and how my adorable little boy has revealed to me something about a parent's love, about God the Father's love for me...and about myself. And I'm sorry to say, it seems he's already picked up one of my bad habits.

It all started with the adventure of breastfeeding. (If the thought of breastfeeding makes you uncomfortable, check out this funny commercial and then don't worry. I won't be graphic.)  For any of you who have not yet had the wonderful opportunity to experience this first hand, you may be alot like I was about a month ago. I was so excited to have this blissful, wonderful, bonding experience of breastfeeding my precious little child. And it is all of those things...but not always right away. Just in case you haven't experienced it yet, I won't go into detail, but it can be a little hard at first.

And one of the hardest parts of it is helping your sweet and starving child understand what he has to do to get the milk. It's all right there for him. It's delicious, nutritious....some even call it "liquid gold." And if you could see the chunky little cheeks on my kid, you'd realize that it is indeed, some good stuff. However, my sweet baby had a really hard time figuring this out at first. I'd be right there, offering him the good stuff, and he'd resort to attempting to suck food out of his shirt, his arm, even his little mittens-that-we-put-on-his-hands-to-protect-him-from-clawing-his-eyes-out, and refuse to go to where the actual food was. And he'd proceed to suck ferociously on whatever random object he found, until he realized he wasn't getting anything and then would serenade us with an extremely frustrated (and pitiful) little wail. Sometimes, in an attempt to help him, I'd gently try to remove whatever random thing he was vigorously sucking, and attempt to replace it with what he actually needed. This was usually met with the angriest little cry you've ever heard from a 4-day-old.

A few days into this whole life-outside-the-womb-thing, he finally started to figure it out. He'd enjoyed a few good meals, and we'd all enjoyed the fact that his poor little tummy wasn't making his life miserable. And then we started having issues again. Sometimes he'd readily cuddle and get a ridiculously cute little milk buzz. And then other times, despite the fact that he'd previously enjoyed the goodness of that "liquid gold," he would refuse me, and resort back to those stupid gloves! I couldn't understand it. I'd offer, sweet talk, beg, and really, try just about anything to help my poor little boy get something to eat...but over and over, he'd want nothing to do with it. And then, in final desperation, he'd usually give in, and finally allow me to feed him. This cycle continued for a few days, which, in new-mommy-land, can feel like AGES. (Wait, I was just talking at the start of this post about how it feels like it's flying? I don't know. I'm losing my mind.)

And then it hit me. My little boy is just like me.

How many times (in my life, in the past month...shoot, TODAY!) does the Lord offer me something SO GOOD, and instead of taking it and enjoying it, I try to satisfy myself with other random things. Things that will never actually provide what I need, or even want! How many times have I started screaming (literally and figuratively) at the Lord when He tries to take away something that isn't helping me, and offer me something much better? And even worse, how often have I tasted how good God is, and then, even after knowing and experiencing the abundant life that He has for me, do I continue to turn away?? It seems ridiculous. About as ridiculous as trying to suck milk from your own arm.

Thankfully, my sweet child caught on pretty quickly, but during the time when he was struggling, it was so hard! I can't tell you how much it broke my heart to watch my poor baby crying, knowing that I had what he needed, but having him refuse it over and over. It killed me to see him struggling to get what he needed, and turning everywhere but me. I wanted so badly to give him something good, to provide exactly what he needed at that moment, but he kept refusing it...over and over. And yet, I kept trying.

There was no point at which I thought, "Oh well, kid, I guess you don't want my milk...fend for yourself." I certainly don't say that to pat myself on the back. In the few short weeks that I've been a mother, I've already failed plenty of times. I say it because it reminds me that, "If you, then, though you are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give good gifts to those who ask Him!" (Matthew 7:11)

My little boy, in this whole experience, gave me a beautiful image of how much my heavenly Father loves me. He continues to offer me the opportunity to follow Him and share His abundant life. He longs to provide for me and give me His unconditional love and mercy, even when I turn away and break His heart. He longs to give me good things, even more than I long to give good things to my baby. And He waits, He begs, me to come into His loving embrace, where He can fulfill my every desire.

How long will it take for me to decide to surrender to His love and receive this liquid gold He has for me?

If only I caught on as quickly as my sweet baby.

Say a prayer for me, if you will.

Love,
Joy :)

Hi, my name is Joy...

The day was December 6th 2011. I was driving home from work...and unknowingly to the surprise birthday dinner that my husband so thoughtfully planned for me. And as is common during my hour-long commute home, I was listening to the radio and I was struck by a really beautiful worship song.  One of the lines was "You are joy, You are joy, You're the reason that I sing...." and I was struck by the fact that our Lord IS Joy, and that my name is a call to be like Him...to reflect His true JOY.

And then it was December 6th 1986.  I'd heard the story many times...My parents were just so filled with happiness when I was born that it became my name..."Joy." I've recalled this story at various times in my life, but for some reason, this time, it struck me differently this time. I started  thinking about how "joy" is an important way that I'm called to reflect the Lord's goodness and love, and it's also become a way for Satan to attack me, to seek to steal my "joy." And then I remembered that is how he works. Satan's tried to steal my name before, and been successful, quite a few times. He's tried to take "Daughter of God," "Beloved," and "Good." Thankfully, God's grace and healing have given me the strength to fight back and reclaim those names. But now Satan was back for another one..."Joy."

In these past few months, I've struggled with fear, worry, and frustration - the complete opposites of joy! And somehow I seemed to miss the connection, that, of course, Satan attacks us at our core...he attacks our identity...and tries to take our names. He sure got me. In fact, I don't even remember putting up a fight

What does your name mean? What name is Satan trying to take from you? What part of your identity are you gonna start fighting for?

Well, thank God for K-Love and birthdays, because they really got me thinking...and realizing just what was at stake. And I'm taking my name back. I was given this name for a reason. and I fully intend to glorify and reflect the Lord with it. Sorry, Satan. You don't get to have my "joy."

Love,
Joy :)