Give Us This Day Our Daily Milk

I’ve never had to wonder where my next feed would come from. For as long as I can remember the low growls of hunger have been quickly satiated by a stocked refrigerator and pantry brimming with snacks. Hunger is not a pain I have felt acutely, except for when I wait too long to eat or am too busy (or lazy) to walk the five feet to the endless supply of food to meet my needs.

But I have felt the hunger pains of another.

Feedings have always been a source of anxiety for me as a mother. From the early days of the twins’ life, I cried as they struggled to eat on their own, only to be met with exhaustion from working too hard, causing them to choose sleep over food. Every meal matters for premature babies, but sometimes eating is just too overwhelming when you weigh five and six pounds at six weeks old. So I struggled and cried and pumped and cried. With each finished bottle we rejoiced. With each minute spent hovered over the kitchen sink washing pump parts and bottle parts, I quietly prayed I would never have to do this amount of work to feed my little people again. With each feeding I hoped in weak, new mother desperation that these ounces of milk would fill their hungry bellies and put fat on their little bones.

Over time it did. Over time they grew. Over time they enjoyed eating. Their desperate cries for food grew less frequent, and I started to forget what it was like to experience the hunger pains.

And now we have Seth.

Seth, who came out with a knife and fork (as the pediatrician likes to say). When you are nearly nine pounds at birth, your feeding situation is far less dire. But I’ve been reminded again of the desperation I felt in those early days with Luke and Zach.

While I’ve never been in want for food, I have held a baby who has forgotten that food will come if he will only calm down, trust his mother’s care, and receive it. I may not have to beg God for my daily bread to come down, but I do regularly find myself praying for daily bread to come through me for the well-being of my baby.

Like so much of motherhood, feeding Seth is an exercise of faith. I’m reminded with every feeding that the same God who cares for the sparrows, cares for my baby. The God who waters the plants with rain from above, also provides food for image bearers like my son.  “Give us this day, our daily bread,” I say quickly in a prayer, yet I fret and forget my hurried prayer when Seth doesn’t seem to get what he desperately needs through me—his only source of the daily bread I just prayed for.

God is in the business of stripping us of every ounce of perceived strength and self-sufficiency. So while I stare at my full refrigerator and basket full of groceries and think I’m not in want for food, I am brought to my knees in weakness when the most needy people in my life cry out in hunger and I don’t have the energy or supply to give it.

Like every weakness God gives us, this is a call to trust in the God who sustains everything, who is upholding the universe by his very word. The God who spoke everything into existence, made manna fall from heaven for the Israelites, and opens blind eyes calls me to trust that he will sustain my baby through me.

“Give us this day, our daily bread,” I pray again. “And give us our milk, too”

You Have Gifts and I Have Gifts

My sister-in-law and her kids just spent ten days with us. While it was quite the circus around here, I got pretty used to our evening dinners together and growing addiction to Call the Midwife. Parenting alongside another mom for ten days gave me a helpful perspective I've been working through since I became a mom two and a half years ago.

There are many different kinds of moms. And that is a very good thing.

My sister-in-law is a woman of many talents. She can walk into a room and redecorate it in her mind in a matter of seconds. In fact, I sent her a picture of Seth's room before we completed it, asking for help with how to fit everything in there, and immediately she sent me back a sketch of an idea. Did I say she is quite the artist? She is. Her kids regularly ask her to draw pictures of their favorite animals or characters for them, and she gladly obliges. She can make stuff out of Play Doh. She can put together toys and build towers and train tracks without getting frustrated. She is crafty and can think of fun projects for our kids to do together. She is resourceful and servant-hearted, always willing to go the extra mile for people.

She is nothing short of amazing.

And I am nothing like her.

I like other things. I do other things. I am good at other things. Her kids expect different things from her that my kids would never even dream of expecting, and vice versa. She parents her kids out of her gifts and strengths, and I do the same with mine. We both bring something to motherhood that the other does not have, and through this we are helping shape children who will bring different strengths and gifts to the world.

The world needs mothers who are crafty and the world needs mothers who pretend with their kids. The world needs mothers who have dance parties and the world needs mothers who play kickball. The world needs mothers who do all sorts of things, because the world needs kids who do all sorts of things.

Often we see the strength of others as a commentary on our weakness, we feel threatened by them and judge them to protect our own feelings of inadequacy. But their strengths are not a threat to us. They are a gift. They are an opportunity to stand in awe of the abundant creativity of God. Just like we can't all be doctors and scientists, we can't all be crafters either. It's not cause for comparison, but cause for appreciation for how God has gifted each of us to parent the children that God has given us.

My friend Trillia Newbell says it well in her book Fear and Faith:

In our fear of being judged as lazy or of incurring the Lord's disapproval, one way we might seek to feel better about ourselves is to mock other women. Yet have we ever stepped back to consider that some women have been especially gifted by God as cheerful, thankful homemakers?

She goes on to say this in response to our comparison:

What if you rejoiced instead? Perhaps if you see women who excel in areas you do not, it can be used as an opportunity to thank God for His creative design. 

So embrace your strengths, my friends. But also, embrace the strengths of others. Every gift and ability we have been given is working together to serve the world that God has diversely created.