And, should we succeed, it will revolutionize life together.
It's something that we've been dealing with for almost 21 years.
And finally, it wore us (me), out and it's time came.
Six children, hundreds of thunderstorms, bad dreams, and itchy pajamas later, Weekend Farmer Husband and I are no longer allowing our youngest to share our bed and middle of the night snuggle time.
This is revolutionary on many levels, but foremost is physical.
I can feel my arms when I wake up.
I sleep several uninterrupted hours in a row.
Clarity of mind is easier to achieve without constant sleep deprivation.
My preschooler is less irritable because she's getting better sleep.
And, the sanctity and precious nature of our marriage bed is being resorted.
Except for last night.
|Dinner by candlelight during power outage|
Hours and hours of pouring rain and rolling thunder made a symphony of the night, and the littlest among us was undone.
We allowed her to suck her thumb.
We gave her "special" blankets.
She slept with a flashlight.
Her kitties curled into her side and offered their warmth and comfort.
And none of that was enough.
So, when she came and whimpered in her fear that she was come apart, her loving father made room for her, drew her near, and assured her of his protection.
And she rested.
Satisfied and safe.
The storm didn't abate.
In fact, although we're not being pelted at the moment, dark clouds are gathered in the sky, and will release themselves on us soon.
Still, she sleeps.
And I'm reminded how for the Christian, we too have an open invitation to crawl right up next to God the Father, broken, needy, weary, and undone. Amass with fear and the failure of self soothing, we have endless access to comfort, mercy, tenderness, care, love, and rest.
This changes how I pray and how I think.
Life is stormy.
And all too frequently, I too find myself undone.
For so long I've had a habit of soldiering on, and like we've done many times with our littlest, sought immediate comfort measures.
But, they've been of my own making and built on foundations of sand.
Prone to being swept away by the stormy winds and surges.
I'm learning to run to Abba Father, God the Most High, quickly and often, and seek comfort and courage in His presence.
And although storm clouds gather - literally and figuratively, I've a shelter in the storm.