The night before last night I woke up to the sound of one of those nasty, sawing coughs accompanied by whimpers. I knew every involuntary wheezing spasm was causing pain to a seering sore throat.
I went to Rebekah's room, armed with a flashlight, Vicks Vapor Rub, Tussin, Chloraseptic, Kleenex and a glass of water. As I rubbed her chest with the Vicks, administered the cough syup and the throat spray, I felt like my Mom. It felt good to comfort the way she used to comfort me. Something about the smell of Vicks makes me kinda nostalgic and weepy.
She talked, then panicked about losing her voice, as if she would never get it back. I explained how the phlegm builds up around the vocal chords so you can't talk, and you need to loosen it with water and medicine, then her voice would come back.
She's such a big girl, she actually swallowed the cough medicine. It was a momentary pang reminding me that I don't have a baby anymore.
Noticing how tired I looked while I ministered, my little sweetie actually apologized a few times for waking me up when she knew I needed sleep.
I soothed and calmed and loved and snuggled, enjoying the softness of her cheeks, the silkiness of her hair and the love that we had for one another. The parent child bond is one you cannot explain, you can only praise and thank the Lord for it.
When she was drowsy enough to fall asleep, I reluctantly left.
The next morning, the alarm clock went off way too early for me. I'm not as young as I used to be, and having a few weeks of interrupted sleep is wiping me out.
She came into my room, talking normally and cheerfully.
"Thank you for saving my life last night! You ar the best mom in the whole world and you saved me from losing my voice. You're the best mom in the whole world, in France, in England and all those countries, you are the best Mommy in the whole wide world.!"
She continued her message as she left my room singing, "You are the best Mommy in the whole wide world. You are the best Mommy...."
Did I say I was tired?
Motherly love not only is a blessing to give and to receive, it's the mode the Lord uses to illustrate His actions towards us.
Isaiah 66:13, "As a mother comforts her child, so will I comfort you."
As we grow in our motherhood, we seek more and more to minister the Lord's love to our children. We long to be more patient, kind, longsuffering and to love selflessly.
We need to remind ourselves that the Lord has these same desires for us, but He is unfailing. He is patient, kind, loving, longsuffering and loving. As we pull our children into our arms, He longs to do the same for us.
Wouldn't it be foolish if our little ones turned away from our comfort?
Isn't it foolish that we sometimes turn from His comfort?
We don't always seek His words of comfort in the Bible.
We don't always tell Him our problems through prayer.
We have the privilege as born-again Christians to come boldly before the throne of grace,
crawl into His lap,
cry on His shoulder,
and let Him comfort us,
Let's impress upon our hearts,
the desire to let their little voices crying, "Mommy"
remind us to call out "Abba, Father!"