It’s been a tough week. Suddenly, out of no where, on Tuesday Avra just decided she was absolutely disinterested in napping. Not only that, but she also decided that it was going to be unacceptable for her to be in any other position than in mommy’s arms. All day. Constantly hungry and overly fussy, I turned to my good friend google to figure out what might be going on.
All signs pointed towards a growth spurt. A hard time for little ones and parents alike. It didn’t help that Ryan was being quarantined in our bedroom because of strep throat at the very same moment, having only just started his regiment of antibiotics. Without his help, and with a fussy, overtired baby clinging to me every moment of the day, by the time evening came around I felt like I was about to implode. Emotions ran wild, and I was at my wit’s end. I knew it was going to be a long night.
It’s in these moments, when things are at their worst, when you can’t seem to separate the bad from the good. All you see is your exhaustion. All you see is the emotional mess. All I could see was that my life had gone from a high intensity sprint of blissful productivity prior to giving birth, to an absolute crawl with every moment of my day spent trying to console a very unhappy little girl. I felt sorry for myself.
But it was in this place of self-pity and utter emotional exhaustion that God met me and spoke to my heart. Somehow I came across Psalm 77, and reading it rocked my world.
Immediately I identified with the opening verses: “I cried out to God for help. I cried out to God to hear me. When I was in trouble, I looked to the Lord. During the night I lifted up my hands in prayer.” (Psalm 77:1-2a, NIrV)
Yup. That was me. Crying out to God, day and night, to help me figure out what was going on with my sweet little girl and, if nothing else, to give me the energy, the stamina, and the drive to get through this new season of life. It was almost enough to validate my feelings of self-pity.
But then I read the next line: “But I refused to be comforted.” (Psalm 77:2b, NIrV)
Come again? “I refused to be comforted”.
God was ready and willing to be my comfort in all of this, but I refused. I was happier to wallow in my self-pity than to be comforted by my loving Father—a Father who has been more patient with me than I will EVER have to be with Avra.
A few verses later, the Psalmist recalls a time when it was easy for him to praise God. And he talks about how he started to doubt that he would ever return to that place of intimacy with God—or that he would ever even experience God’s goodness again.
But then it hits him and he knows what he needs to do. He knows how he can pull himself out of that place of sorrow and self-pity. He needs to remember. He needs to make a list of all the great things that he has seen God do. He needs to remind himself of all the stories that have been told of the miraculous deeds of the one true God. He needs to remember who God is, and what He is capable of.
“Lord, I will remember what you did. Yes, I will remember your miracles of long ago. I will spend time thinking about everything you have done. I will consider all of your mighty acts.” (Psalm 77:11-12, NIrV)
And I realized, this is what I need to do to. This is what is going to get me through the hard days (and I know there are MANY to come!). I need to push aside all those negative thoughts and I need to remember what God has done. From the beginning of time, throughout history, and through every moment of my life—up to and including bringing the dream of parenthood into my heart and bringing our precious Avra into this world safe and sound. He has done so much. He has answered so many of my prayers. He has shown “how powerful His right hand is” (Psalm 77:10b, NIrV).
I have SO much to be grateful for. And at the top of the list is the way that God reveals Himself to me in exactly the way I need Him too, at exactly the moments I need it most.
I will not refuse to be comforted by this kind and gracious God!
And I won’t complain about all the extra Avra snuggles I’ve been blessed with this week. ❤️