Hers, Mine and His

My throat is on fire, and I am exhausted when I hear the cry in the wee hours of the morning.  I struggle from my bed, eyes half-closed to Baby Girl's crib.  I hug and kiss her, lay her back down and tuck her in with, "It's still sleepy time, sweet girl.  Good night."

I close the door behind me as she screams, hoping that it will pass quickly. 

It doesn't. 

I know I need my sleep since I am not well and bringing her to bed does not qualify as good sleep, so I stumble back to her room.  Again, I hug and kiss, lay her down and tuck her in.  But this time I sit.

I sit, and I reach one hand in to stroke her silky hair and soft cheeks.  I pat her arm, and I wait.  I'm so tired, and she's not.  I give up thoughts of a soft bed, grab a blanket from her closet and the "Mary, Mary Quite Contrary" pillow that was mine and is now hers and settle bones on a hard floor.  One hand reaches in to connect to hers.

Image by Penny Matthews

She is mine, and I am hers.  "Mama's here.  It's okay."

Occasionally, she makes sounds just to hear my quiet, "Sshhh.  I'm still here."

And as hips protest the unforgiving floor, my mind wanders.  Christ took on our discomforts.  He left behind the perfection and splendor of what was His and crossed into our dark, lonely world.  He made Himself nothing to become like us.  His hand reached in to a point in our time and space, and said, "I'm here.  It's okay."  And it reaches still.

He is mine, and I am His.

And I feel grateful.



Gifts #57 - 83

holding Baby Girl's sweet hand

time at night to think and know

Christ's humility

a cardinal in flight

tiger lilies wild on the roadside

beauty in unexpected places

church steeples in the countryside

new-to-me roads

anticipation

a safe arrival

not getting lost

a day with girlfriends

encouragement from readers

my pastor's wife

The Stinker's hard work

a new dress

hot tea and honey on a sore throat

a husband who makes it

13 years married, 16 together

turquoise

my mom sews

Baby Girl's white satin flower girl dress with a grass green sash

The Stinker's eyes lit up from praise

speaking love to my children

a funny doctor

family who loves on the kids (and me) when I'm sick (still) and speechless

working together to make home beautiful

pretty stone

blooming day lilies

Hers, Mine and His