And of course, we were. But on the inside I was a panicked mess of emotion. This has got to be illegal, I thought. You can't just send us home with this baby. We have no idea what we are doing! My heart threatened to jump out of my chest as I gulped down the tears and tried to adjust to my new role.
Mom.
I had trusted the Lord with my life before this moment, but the trust required to care for a human life, this was a trust completely foreign to me. So, I did what any rational human being would do. I watched daytime television. The Price Is Right and Judge Judy became the balm for my raw and untamed emotions.
Those early nights were some of my most desperate as I begged my tiny baby to nurse and tried not to stare at the clock as the night meandered heartlessly along with no regard for my emotions. The morning would inevitably break and I would breathe deep as I prepared to begin again.
I read somewhere that you should talk to your baby. I can remember staring down at the tiny human God had placed in my care and not having a clue what to say to him.
"Nooooose," I said in my best sing-songy voice. "Can you say nose?" I asked my barely two-week old baby. "Where are your tooooes?" I followed as Baby Einstein played in the background.
In mechanical fashion I continued my daily anatomy lesson with my infant because I couldn’t think of anything else to say. But I had better say something. The baby book told me so.
Talk to baby. Check. Play classical music. Check.
And then there was the schedule. The book said to feed the baby every three hours. I wanted, needed, to do it just like the book said. Unfortunately for those close to me I had the luxury of following the book to a T. There weren’t any other children running interference. Not yet.
I remember sitting on the porch swing with my dad outside our first house. The baby was crying.
"Dad, what time is it?"
He looked down at his Ironman wristwatch. "12:54, sweetie."
"I'm not supposed to feed the baby for six more minutes. Will you hold him for me?"
I honestly don't remember how my Dad responded, but I'm sure he complied in his reassuring way and tried not to let on that he thought I had lost my mind.
And so it continued. I would read this or that and set out to implement whatever it was that was sure to save my sanity and set my child on the path to success. I was grasping for some sort of measurable outcome in which to trust, something tangible to tell me I was doing OK.
I still do this.
However, as our family has grown, I am finding that what I really need is reassurance that runs far deeper than what external benchmarks or the praise of man can give me. The bible says that caring what others think will prove to be a snare. What I need is the King of the Universe to proclaim that His banner over me is love and I need to believe Him. When I am secure in His love, trust flows naturally.
The apprehension that has come with each new life is unavoidable. Each time I find myself utterly outside of my comfort zone and beyond my skill set, God reminds me to look up to Him for help and trust Him. I have more questions now than I did ten years ago when I was gushing over my first tiny bundle of joy. The questions swirl in my mind and threaten to become a tornado of worry, fear, and doubt swooping me right up into Satan's ever-familiar funnel of despair.
And then I hear a still, small voice call out.
Do you trust Me, Melissa?
Dearest one, will you trust Me to work each moment of your life together for your good and My glory? Will you trust that I have not forgotten you even when your emotions want to tell you a different story?
If all I can muster is a whisper in the dark, may my heart say, Yes, Lord, I will trust You! Overcome my unbelief.
"Trust in the Lord with all your heart;
lean not on your own understanding.
In all your ways acknowledge Him,
and He will direct your paths."
Proverbs 3:5-6
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