yes, I'll drink from that cup

The other night was quite an experience. We had had a great family day with a walk on the beach for mama and Jack at the spot where we got married, a walk downtown for the Christmas tree lighting ceremony, fun at home and reading Christmas books under the tree before bed. I had taken a trip to Marshall's during nap time to get some new pillows for the couch and while I was there, I bought two mugs just like ones Honey and Grampa have that say 'mom' and 'dad'. They were only $3.99 each and I thought--- yes, I'll drink from this cup with pride, and glad it is so cheap.

After the blissful snuggle reading of the Christmas story under the tree, we headed to the bathroom to brush teeth. And then it happened-- all of it.

Jack- you refused to brush your teeth as you do every night and I took the tooth brush away. You stand on a wooden stool that was homemade by dad with no power tools in 7th grade woodshop. It's not what you would call 'safe' for toddler use but it somehow made its way to our everyday routine in the bathroom. You stomped your foot and yelled and the stool fell out from under you. You banged your chin on the bathroom counter and bit your lip with your sharp teeth. It was the first time that you and dad and I had seen more than a knee scrape of your blood. You were very surprised and scared by what was happening while we tried to stay calm and assess the situation. You had quite a bit of blood which just is flat out painful to a parent- especially relative newbies like us. We spent about an hour from the time you fell to the time you were in bed--- so from about 10pm to 11pm consoling, cleaning blood and comforting you. It is now a day later and your lip is still very swollen with a huge gross spot inside.

Then from about 11pm to midnight, I had a sad little meltdown about being overwhelmed by our life sometimes, our schedules, our to do list. It's times like this that Satan knows I'm weakened and throws really stupid ideas into my head like I shouldn't have gone on a walk at the beach when the floor needed to be mopped. What a loser Satan is, but he still gets me distracted sometimes. Dad listened to me patiently--as the awesome and loving man that he is. We finally headed to bed at around midnight.

Literally minutes after we laid down and started to sleep, we heard you Jack start to scream. You have been having some nights lately where you cry in a way that is almost like you've hada nightmare and it's an unpleasant sound, but we have been able to get it under control most times with some comfort. This night, you screamed, and screamed and screamed. You screamed for two hours. We did everything we could, including but not limited to taking you outside to see the stars, taking you into the garage to see Vanessa (our van) and finally resolved to lay you down on the ground, and stroke your hair as you screamed. It felt like... a pain that I can't describe. A hopeless, loving pain that has selfishness bubble up periodically that says 'I do love him but I want to go to bed.' It was somewhere in this time period that two things occurred to me or were whispered to me from God.

1- James 1:2-- Consider it a great joy, my brothers, whenever you experience various trials.

I laughed when I thought of this and told your dad. I said that I could not understand this verse most of the time but that this verse in this moment helped me realize what it is about-- at least to me. When ALL is not right--- when your beloved child is screaming and you are helpless to console him-- there is God. When you have no idea how long your 'trial' is going to last, you have to depend on God. When you depend on God and count yourself lucky that you know the source of your strength- then you realize that a trial is the best way to get close to God.

2- I am reading a book called 'humility' by Andrew Murray. In it, he defines humility very simply as "the place of entire dependence on God."

We were completely humbled this night. This thought came to me as well during this portion of the night. I thought that we would comfort you and then I would have had these two sweet nuggets of insight from God and that all would be well soon.

We finally got you down to sleep in the pack and play in the middle of the living room by around 2am. We went to lay back down completely drained emotionally and I was already thinking of how I had to work the next morning early. Then as we lay down, dad says, " oh my gosh- I forgot to move my car to the front of the driveway. Long story short-- we can only park in the garage or in front of the garage and he had left his car-- right in front of our house. He got up to move it. It was gone.

From 2-3 am we tried to figure out what to do-- we did not know if it had been stolen or towed, who to call in what order and also-- wanted to not have another "trial" for the night. After phone calls and pacing-- we found that the car had been towed by the homeowner's association rules and that it would cost $330 to pick it up the next day. Lovely. And here I was thinking we could afford some Christmas presents-- silly mama. We then could not go straight to bed because our blood was boiling with the injustice of having one warning 7 months ago and then a tow.

We got in bed around 2:50am. At 3:01-- Charlie started to cry really loud as if he had lost his mind. I believe I said something to the effect of-- you have got to be kidding me-- with maybe a word I shouldn't even type mixed in.

I decided after a few minutes of consoling that I did not care about 'babywise schedule' tonight and I fed you Charlie. You-- thankfully-- went back down to sleep by 3:30am.

No joke--- at 3:38am-- Jack started to scream again. Screaming a violent painful scream. You were gagging, and kicking. I had long forgotten to count it pure joy. But the entire dependence on God bit-- that was on the tip of my tongue. I really did feel aware that God was all we had- the strong unbreakable rope that we were dangling from in our living room.

Jack-- you cried and cried so I decided that I would make my lunch for work, had a bowl of cereal and prepped the coffee pot while you were sitting on a chair in the middle of the kitchen crying violently without ceasing. I just kept breathing and putting one foot in front of the other and wishing the sun would come up and that it would be over. I finally got you to bed by 5am.

I slept from 5am- 6am and then Charlie woke up for the day. After I fed you, I had to get ready for a full day of work.

I went through the motions slowly but thinking about everything and hoping that all was over for now. As I left my room to go to the kitchen, I notced the humility book that had come to mind from the night before- I realized that it had a cup on it. mmm-- at least I get to have coffee, I thought.

I walked out to get some coffee and saw my new mug. "MOM" right on it. I heard my own thought from the day before in a new light. 'Yes, I'll drink from that cup with pride.' but it wasn't that cheap that night! I shared a laugh with myself and God as I thanked Him for helping us through the night. I tiptoed out of the house with all my stuff-- feeling a little bit like I was going to vomit.

I got into Vanessa and pulled down our street. I thought-- how about a song on the way. I looked at the bright sun coming through the trees on the main street of San Juan Capistrano and felt brisk fresh air coming through the crack of the window. A deep breath in felt sooooo good. I actually did consider our trial a great joy---somehow- I know its weird but I did.

I hit the button on the stereo. Silent Night sung by Michael Buble. Another laugh-- you got me again God-- ha ha!!!