Revisiting a post from the As He Leads Us series today; originally published February 9. 2009:
Welcome back for more discussion about mothering our littlest ones!
Last week's discussion on our concerns about sleep training was insightful and thought-provoking. I can't tell you how much I commend each of you who weighed in for sharing your feedback in a way that promotes dialogue rather than debate. As a reminder, the purpose in our discussions here is to have some honest conversations about the challenges and victories of mothering in that first year of a baby's life - and ultimately to discover what lessons from the hand of God we can take away from that all-too-short season of mothering.
Laura and I want to reiterate that when it comes to the topic of nighttime parenting, we speak as those who know. Each of our oldest children were close to two before they slept completely through the night. Each of us have toddlers right now who are not sleeping through the night. We know of what we speak when we talk about the very real effects of not getting a good night's sleep for many, many, many nights on end. We want you that we understand that there are mothers who are really hurting, really struggling, really searching for direction during an enormously difficult period of time. What we offer today we do not offer flippantly or casually; this stems from a genuine and heart-deep desire to minister to other mothers with what God has allowed us to learn in the past four years.
To further our series on sleep, we want to examine two elements to surviving the season of interrupted sleep - the spiritual component and the physical component. Today, we'll talk spiritual and save the physical for next week. What we are sharing today is excerpted from my essay on sleep in our book. In this essay, I share how agonizing it was to have a baby who didn't sleep through the night when the books insisted she was fully capable of doing so. The physical exhaustion was compounded by a nagging insistence that I was failing. By the time Dacey was five months old, I was going under. One day, God spoke clearly to me. This is what I heard . . .
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Here’s what the Lord impressed on my heart: Since the day Dacey was born, my spiritual life had begun to atrophy. I was tired and not just a little distracted. My quiet time in the Scripture and in prayer took a backseat as I mostly focused on just surviving day-to-day. As I prayed over this matter of being up so much at night, the Lord gently prompted me to consider that if I was resolute in my decision to avoid cry-it-out sleep training, and if I was going to be up at night anyway, could I possibly conceive of the idea that these moments alone in the dark and quiet at night were a gift from Him? It was so difficult to carve out time alone with my God during the day.
What if I flipped the attitude switch in my mind?
Rather than viewing these little interruptions at night as exhausting drudgery and empty sacrifice, perhaps I could use them as pockets of solitude for prayer and Scripture meditation.
This was an utterly radical concept to me, but I decided to go with it. I could always benefit from more Scripture memory, so I would meditate on Scripture I already knew or sometimes I would pick out new verses during the day and then I would recite them to myself at night. Mostly though, I just prayed. Prayed for myself, for my husband, my daughter, my family, my friends, anyone and everyone the Lord brought to mind. I am being completely honest in saying the Lord richly and deeply rewarded the way I served my daughter in that time. I hadn’t felt that connected to Him in a long, long time. And I’ll be even more honest in telling you that once she began sleeping longer stretches at night (and eventually through the night, when she was ready, with no sleep training), my prayer life began to slack again. There was just something about meeting the Lord in the absolute solitude of a quiet night that was profoundly productive and satisfying.
Were these rocking chair reunions with the Lord always peaceful, pastoral, and serene? Hardly!
The times I would get most upset and agitated at night were the times I would focus my thoughts on this: “How am I going to function tomorrow? How can I get through the day on so little uninterrupted sleep?” That was when I learned magnificent lessons about leaning into God’s grace. You see, God only gives us grace at the moment we need it. He wasn’t going to give me the grace I would need for the next day at three o’clock in the morning. I had no grace for getting through the next day, because the next day hadn’t yet arrived. Day by day, hour by hour, He amazingly and supernaturally provided the grace and energy and stamina I needed to perform on (what I considered to be) too little sleep.
There’s no other way I can explain those days except to say He got me through it. He did. I began to experience in living color exactly what the Apostle Paul meant when he encouraged believers by saying, “And my God will meet all your needs according to His glorious riches in Christ Jesus” (Philippians 4:19, NIV, emphasis mine). God challenged me to live out what I had always said I believed - that He could and would provide for all my needs. I had few greater needs in those days than the need for physical and emotional endurance, and He didn’t fail me in meeting those needs, not even once.
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I'll be the first to admit that before this mind-changing epiphany, my attitude towards my baby fell far short of gentle. It pains me to recall that there were nights I would slam down the crib rail, and my voice strained with a harshness that alarmed me. Getting up with Dacey at night was unbearable until God got a hold of me in this area. And I have to confess, too, that when Aliza Joy from time to time extends her night wakings from a brief mama milk snack to a ninety minute attempt to party through the night, I sometimes collapse back into our bed in a pile of teary frustration. I find I am constantly relearning this concept and surrendering to more renewing of my mind.
One thing remains constant: God's grace. When I cry out, whatever the hour, whatever the need, He meets me at the depth of my need. He never fails to sustain. Will you invite Him to show Himself mighty in this way in your life, too?
(image courtesy of IRRI Images)
