Whoever said parenting squelches your night life never had kids like mine.
“Mommy?”
My eyelids popped open, startled out of sound sleep. Slowly, the hazy shape of a youngster appeared at my bedside, clutching a pillow in one hand and a doll in the other. She started to cry.
“What is it, sweetheart? What’s wrong?”
“My tummy hurts!”
Oh, boy. Here we go. I whipped off my covers and slapped two bare feet to the floor. With a hand on the small of her back, I led my five-year-old first to the bathroom for a Tums, then to the family room sofa. I tucked her beneath a warm blanket and stationed a bucket on her lap, just in case. Then I camped on the floor for the next two hours while she dozed on and off.
Nurse Mom sees plenty of nighttime action.
My kids wake at midnight from coughing fits and scary dreams.
They tiptoe to my bedroom in pitch darkness to inform me they need to go potty.
They crawl out of bed in tears because they can’t find a favorite stuffed animal tucked deep beneath the covers. They expect me to find it.
They talk in their sleep.
The bump their heads on the wall.
They’re hungry. So they tap my shoulder at 2 a.m. asking for a snack.
Sometimes they just want to know if it’s morning yet and can they please watch TV?
No, no you cannot. Not at 3 o’clock in the blessed a.m. Please go back to bed. Mommy needs her sleep.
I’m tired.
Very tired.
You, too?
“Therefore, I urge you, brothers and sisters, in view of God’s mercy, to offer your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to God—this is your true and proper worship,” (Romans 12:1).
Have you ever thought of fatigue as worship? It never crossed my mind, until a friend described her approach to surviving newborn feedings. “Every time the baby woke me up to eat,” she explained, “I prayed, ‘Lord, this is my sacrifice to you.’”
My sacrifice.
Think about that for a minute. Sleep loss is part of the parenting deal. Babies eat round the clock. Toddlers suffer night terrors. Teens drive the car to the basketball game. So we worry. We ache. We stay up too late scouring Pinterest or dropping JPGs into photo books because there is no earlier quiet time to indulge.
Energy is a luxury.
But this tired body, these burning, bloodshot eyeballs, these maniac tears dripping from pure exhaustion. Could it be? It’s all an offering of thanks—to the One who granted me the gift of motherhood.
Yes, my children mutate me into a zombie some days. But would I trade them for a lifetime of peaceful slumber?
Never.
“Sweetheart, how does your tummy feel?” I leaned over the sofa and brushed disheveled locks of hair away from my daughter’s eyes. Stiff muscles in my neck rebelled against their makeshift cot on the floor.
“Better.” She cracked a weak smile.
“Do you want to go back to your bed? You’d be more comfortable there.”
“No, Momma. I want to sleep in your bed.”
Of course. So do I.
I scooped her off the sofa and carried her to my room. She snuggled into the center of our king-size mattress and fell fast asleep. I listened to the gentle rhythm of her breathing, inhaled the scent of her strawberry shampoo, and watched her cheeks glow in the moonlight.
Sleep? Sometimes it’s overrated. In all my years of childless freedom, I never saw a nighttime scene so spectacular as this.
A few hours later, I woke to sunlight peeking through the window blinds—and the dull pressure of a foot shoved against my forehead. My daughter’s lanky limbs sprawled perpendicular across the bed.
Well, Lord, I thought, this is my crazy life. My sacrifice to you.
I am blessed beyond measure.
If this post encouraged you, please pass it on. You might also like When Sick Kids Cramp My Social Life, Taste of Candyland, and On Dreams, Contentment, and Spaghetti.
Linking up with: The Better Mom, Playdates With God, Mommy Moments, The Mom Initiative, Tuesdays Unwrapped, Titus 2sdays, Grace at Home, and Things I Can’t Say.
“Every time the baby woke me up to eat, I prayed, ‘Lord, this is my sacrifice to you.’”
What good, beautiful, and biblical wisdom!
I loved this post (and the memories it recalled!)
Yes, Sylvia, I really appreciated my friend’s wisdom on this subject. It gave me a whole new appreciation and resource for getting through the fatigued nights. I hope your memories are sweet ones!
It is a sacrifice of worship every time you take up the burden of being a good mom, Becky. And you remind us of the beautiful gift we can lay at Jesus’ feet every time we’re called to step up. Love it! (But I’ve put in a prayer for you to catch up on all your lost sleep too, my friend!)
Oh, thank you for your prayer, Beth! You make me smile. Snuggling with little people in the middle of the night is not all bad – not in the least. I would like to remember what I look like without bloodshot eyes, though, but there’s time for that down the road, God willing. 🙂
Becky, I look forward to Monday mornings because I know a fresh dose of encouragement waits for me here. Oh, how I love this– “fatigue is an act of worship.” My goodness, I never leave His sanctuary if that’s true 🙂 With five kids I, too, live in the constant stream of nighttime action. But I agree with you- blessed beyond measure. Sometimes I think I can hear and see and feel Jesus better in those dark night hours when there is nothing to distract me from Him but the needy child on my lap. You’re an amazing writer, dear friend. Thanks for carving out time to pen His heart through your words.
Alicia, your words encourage me so much. It’s true, Jesus is close in the dark night hours. Blessings to you and your family, my fellow writer mom!
Alicia and Becky,
You inspire moms like me. I only have two but nighttime can get a little crazy. Love the post. Thanks for the encouragement.
Monica
HappyandBlessedHome.com
I miss snugging with my little ones. They are grown now, but those moments where we still all cuddle up in one bed are so precious. thanks for the memories.
I’ve been doing some extra snuggling this week, Alene. 🙂
You are so right- I wouldn’t trade my kids for restful nights of sleep.
What a wonderful practice–to use the tired cues of this body as worship. Lovely!
Amen to your post!
Oh, yes, some snow for my soul.. how I need that gift this week. As always, I love the way you turn ordinary life into worship. Blessings, friend!