It was two in the morning and I sat there, as I had several times during the day (and night), feeding this baby, while my husband slept soundly beside me.
I was promised never ending sweet moments, a cosmic bond with my baby that would fill our time together with purpose, the culmination of a divine creative process.
But it’s just me. Sitting in the dark. Feeding a now sleeping baby. Alone.
This task is small, vulnerable, and without prestige. And in the dark, the condemnation starting pouring in, telling me that what I did was mundane and that it, and my part in it, insignificant.
At present, my days are filled with these moments. And when you weave these moments into days, and those days into months, and those months into some representation of my life’s accomplishments (because what’s two a.m. without a little melodrama?), doesn’t that really mean that my life itself is unimportant, that I myself am, at least mostly, insignificant or replaceable? And if that’s the case, WHAT GOOD AM I?!
And while I basked (rather, I wallowed) in the repetitive and never ending nature of this particular task, I asked God that very question, “God, what good am I, really, when anyone could feed this kid, anyone could change his diapers, anyone could do what I’m doing now? Not even the baby is riveted by what’s happening right now, and he’s the one who instigated it.”
And after letting me wallow a little more, He answered me.
“Anyone could, but you are, and what you are doing is sustaining this child.”
And in that moment of exhaustion and self-pity, I realized that the insignificant events in life are really the ones that sustain us. The countless loads of laundry my husband does, the daily cooking and cleaning we do, the jobs we work, the tasks we take on, sustains the bodies of our family and friends.
The never-ending games of “Watch this, Mommy!”, the quick hugs when someone comes home tired and a little battered by the day, the random text or call to a friend for no reason other than you are thinking of them, sustains the hearts of our loved ones.
Our significant lives are built from a few watershed moments and millions of trivial ones. And it’s those beautiful, sacred, trivial moments that sustain us everyday.
As I looked down at my infant in the faint light from the hallway, breathing in the sacred occasion that only we shared (even if one of us was mostly unconscious through it), I had an “a-ha” moment, as if God was giving me a knowing wink and a smile, that I myself am often the unconscious baby in God’s arms, that there are even more countless moments that only He and I share, where He cares for me even in those times unimportant to anyone else, and makes me significant by sustaining me with His very self.
“Surely God is my help; the Lord is the one who sustains me.” Psalm 54:4
Peanut Butter and Something -
PB&J was the go-to running out the door meal when I was growing up. It’s quick and easy, no recipe, and you barely need to pay attention when making it.
Make one for you and make one for someone else. Take your time and make this insignificant action significant by considering how it will sustain and comfort you and them. It’s like a hug for the tummy!
“Jesus Loves Me”
(If you’re rolling your eyes, sing the song twice. ;)
God, I give you my moments,
The mundane, the tedious, and the insignificant are all Yours.
You sustain me in these moments.
You make them sacred.
Remind me that I am sacred to You.
We all have that chore or job that we hate. It seems so tedious, boring and/or unimportant. Next time that the opportunity arises to do it, take that task on and list everyone that it will bless, care for, provide for and sustain. Take time to meditate on every step or action necessary to complete the task. Make it a sacred moment.