Uncertain Days

I recently brought a child into this world, and am about to welcome another one. And this world is one crazy, messy place.

Yesterday, Hubby and I ventured to the airport, minus Tadpole who’s enjoying a week-long play date with his excited grandparents, for a holiday in Croatia. A relatively normal event, but not today – the day after massive thwarted terrorist attacks at airports in London affected air travel across the world.

Following 9/11, the airline travel experience changed dramatically – and once again, we encountered widespread changes in the way we fly. No hand baggage was allowed, with the exception of a few items listed as “essentials.” (They even made me remove my travel tissues from their wrapper and confiscated my beloved chap stick and three sticks of gum at security – who do they think this pregnant chick is, MacGyver?)

Now, I’m not one to follow all the ins and outs of terror, war, and international friction. It’s a complicated mess of politics and history that I know enough to converse lightly about but otherwise tend to shy away from. I suppose it’s just the way I’m wired that these affairs of the world have always been a bit too terrifying and overwhelming to me to study or read about much.

And perhaps a more recent reason is because it truly unnerves me to know that my kids are being born into an increasingly scary and dangerous world.

Growing up in evangelical America, singing the hymn “Because He Lives” was a monthly occurrence – it was one of many ‘regulars’ to which most people knew the first stanza’s words by heart.

It was only after Tadpole was born that I happened to take a break from stinky laundry and nappy changing one day to flip through my worn hymnbook and plink around a bit on the piano. I came across this familiar stand-by and caught a glimpse of the second stanza’s powerful words that now held significant meaning for me as a new mum:

“How sweet to hold a newborn baby
And feel the pride and joy he gives.”

Those words made my eyes well up in understanding and overwhelmed me with love for this precious baby that God had gifted to my care.

But it’s the second half of the verse that grip me today in this oft frightening world, having gone through an absurd number of security checks in a police-heavy airport yesterday, and on holiday far away from my beloved son:

“But greater still, the calm assurance
This child can face uncertain days – because Christ lives.”

How powerfully reassuring it is to know that amidst all the fear and evil in this world, my son can grow up confident in one thing – that there is true hope, because of Christ’s death and resurrection.

Because Christ lives.

One of Those Days

I’m having one of those days.

One of those days that you want to take the day off from being a Mum. Or run right out and get an office job. Or pull each hair of yours out, slowly, one at a time. Or just put your baby down for bed at 4pm (if only that meant he’d sleep through until 7am).

I have had several of these days in the last month. First, Tadpole cut all four center upper teeth at the same time. Then he moved straight into a clingy ‘mommy’ stage. Now he’s going through a bit of a stranger anxiety phase. One thing right on top of the other. (And he has also just now discovered my delete key, which means I typed that last sentence 4 times).

What never ceases to amaze me is how you can be so in love with this tiny being that also makes you want to scream – wild extremes of emotions at the exact same time.

This is a part of parenthood for which I was not prepared: that I would have these seemingly schizophrenic moments where I would be on the verge of tears, wanting to collapse from exhaustion on the park grass while my precious offspring threw yet another fit, but that I would instead find myself singing “Old MacDonald” like it was the most exciting song ever written – and almost believing it. And suddenly my bundle of joy would be laughing hysterically at my oinking, my heart would swoon because of his pure exuberance for this simple song, and then in an instant the sharp twist of the roller coaster would surprise me again and he would be back to his random fussing.

And I thought dating was the ultimate emotional roller coaster.

But goodness is he cute, and oh how I love him with my entire heart. Motherhood is by far the hardest and sweetest thing I have ever done, and I wouldn’t trade it for the world. I guess it’s that parent-child tie – and definitely oodles of grace from God – that allow the joy to shine through even in the midst of unbelievably tough days.

Days just like today.