We don’t sleep much over here. This child of mine doesn’t seem to need very much. She wakes up every couple of hours at night. She takes one, maybe two, 20 minute power naps during the day. If she sleeps for longer it’s because she’s being held. I thought that maybe once she started moving it would tire her out and she would sleep more, but that appears to be just a pipe dream, at least for now.
When Gianna gets tired during the day, she crawls over into my lap and nuzzles my chest. She rubs her eyes and starts to fuss. In order to achieve some much needed naptime, we rock. Somedays she snuggles in close at my breast and is asleep in an instant. But more often than not it takes longer. She doesn’t seem to want to miss anything, my child. Today was one of those days. And so I rocked her. I sang to her. I spoke words of love in soothing tones as I rubbed her back. And even though she was clean, fed, and in desperate need of rest, she struggled against it. She fussed. She changed positions. She threw her arms out. She kicked her legs. She picked her head up and cried. There were moments I thought she had given in to the rest, had let herself sink into much needed sleep, but she would open one eye and look up at me as though skeptical of what I was offering. She has been doing this thing where she will roll herself backwards on my lap and look upside down, to where her great-gram is sitting in her chair. It’s like she’s making sure that Gram is still there, still watching, still smiling. Eventually of course, biology and her mother won out, and my very tired baby fell asleep, peaceful, nestled in my arms, her head resting on my chest.
And that’s when I realized that I do the same thing all the time with God. I run to him for rest, and when I get there, whether it be to the adoration chapel, mass, or even a few minutes of quiet prayer in bed, I don’t rest. I don’t give over my worries or fatigues to Him, even when I’m safe in His arms. I fuss, I struggle, I continue to think and worry even after I’ve felt his touch, even after He’s told me the calming words I need to hear. I don’t always rest easily, I don’t always abide in His love easily. And what does it get me? It only makes me more worried, more tired, more upset. Just like Gianna, I don’t give in as quickly as I should because God, like her Momma, knows what I need. My daughter needs sleep, I can read it in her face, her movements. I need God’s soothing touch, and I know that He can read it in me. And just like I am there to hold her and make her feel safe, secure, and loved, I know that He’s there to hold me. I need to be better at settling in, at stopping my mind from racing, at not overthinking, better at resting in God’s love. Because its the place I need to be the most.