Confession #137: SHHH! My Babe Is Sleeping

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It’s morning.

I lay beside a sleeping babe. Teething. We’ve been up all night, me and him. In the pitch black on my room, I continually checked the light of my watch. Another half-hour awake. Another half-hour of night gone. Three and a half hours total. Elmo on YouTube and the bare arms of daddy’s embrace sitting on the cool of the front porch were all that would settle him.

And now, in the light of day, the teeth poke through. Little white pearls to remind us he is growing.

He sleeps now. I stare. I should be doing something. Anything. My list runs long. Lunch needs to be prepared. Dishes need to be washed. Emails need answered. And on and on and on. But I can’t. He is sleeping. Peaceful. And I just want to watch.

He wakes up, eyes cracking open ever so slightly. He whimpers. He isn’t ready. I pull him close. I sing.

God is so good. God is so good. God is so good. He’s so good to me.

He grins. Eyes lids relax. His hand reaches for my mouth, placing a few fingers inside, rubbing my own grown teeth, feeling my tongue as it sings. He inhales deep and nods back asleep.

I stare.

He’s growing. My babe is growing. Time is now measured in milestones. As the year grows, so does he. He waves. One month passes. He crawls. One month complete. He says Dada. One more month gone forever. My heart aches.

I have been a rusher all my life. I used to live each minute planning to get to the next. Timelines and calendars and to-do lists kept me sane. What do to next? What to do tomorrow? When is this do? Never late. Always on time. Never pausing. Never stopping.

Now there is a babe on my bed teething. And all I want is for time to stop, to breathe in each second, to watch his body grow into a little boy. I don’t want to miss a thing. I want to experience every minuscule moment. No more rushing. There is a babe to watch.

I can’t help but wonder: Is this is how God looks at us? A God who is not governed by time. A God whose years are like months, months like weeks, and weeks like days.

A thousand years in your sight are like a day that has just gone by, or like a watch in the night. Psalm 90:4

As I stare at my sleeping babe, is God also starting at me? Watching me teeth? Singing me to sleep when I wake, not yet ready? Holding me through the pain? Praising each new step? Savoring each moment of his wonderfully made creation grow?

Yes. I believe He is. And that thought brings me comfort. Joy. Peace. The God who created me watches over me as I watch my sleeping babe. Entranced and in love.

The Lord watches over you- the Lord is your shade at your right hand; the sun will not harm you by day, nor the moon by night. The Lord will keep you from all harm- he will watch over your life; the Lord will watch over your coming and going both now and forevermore. Psalm 121: 5-8

My babe is now awake. Starring back at me with his big round eyes. He smiles a hello. Pain is gone. Time to play.


5 Comments on “Confession #137: SHHH! My Babe Is Sleeping

  1. Yes, the sit-and-stare times, the baby-needs-held times … How precious they are. Be greedy. Enjoy them. Be mindful during them. The world can wait. But baby can’t. Every minute, hour, day, week – he and those little white pearls grow. So sit-and-stare, Jillian. Sing lullabies. Rock your little guy. Store memories. You are so right: Babies don’t wait.

    Liked by 1 person

    • “Babies Don’t Keep”

      Mother, O Mother, come shake out your cloth,
      Empty the dustpan, poison the moth,
      Hang out the washing, make up the bed,
      Sew on a button and butter the bread.

      Where is the mother whose house is so shocking?
      She’s up in the nursery, blissfully rocking.

      Oh, I’ve grown as shiftless as Little Boy Blue,
      Lullabye, rockabye, lullabye loo.
      Dishes are waiting and bills are past due
      Pat-a-cake, darling, and peek, peekaboo

      The shopping’s not done and there’s nothing for stew
      And out in the yard there’s a hullabaloo
      But I’m playing Kanga and this is my Roo
      Look! Aren’t his eyes the most wonderful hue?
      Lullabye, rockaby lullabye loo.

      The cleaning and scrubbing can wait till tomorrow
      But children grow up as I’ve learned to my sorrow.
      So quiet down cobwebs; Dust go to sleep!
      I’m rocking my baby and babies don’t keep.

      Author: Ruth Hulburt Hamilton


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