Letters to God from a New Mom
As a new mom I found a closeness with God during those wee hours of the morning when I was nursing and rocking my son back to sleep. In the quietness of the house, God’s voice seemed ever-present and comforted me through the [still ongoing] emotional journey into this new foreign role called ‘motherhood’. I was desperately seeking an understanding of my purpose and an assurance of my capabilities.
Often during these times, I would focus my mind on passages that declared God’s might and power. Passages that spoke of His faithfulness and His provision. Passages that displayed His unending compassion and grace. Then with a deep sigh, I would continue to rock slowly and whisper my thanksgiving. I knew His promises.
These words that slipped past my lips often fell into a specific cadence that was deeply personal and sounded almost like a letter to a good friend. Because, after all – that’s what they were.
So below is a passage that I wrote early one morning when I was exhausted and needed comfort. I was drawn to Psalm 63, reminding me that our ever-present God is full of love and ready to tuck me under His wing.
Lord, I feel so alone. So tired. And so insignificant in this endless cycle of the newborn cries. But I know you’re there. Thank you for your never-ending compassion towards me.
When I remember You on my bed, I meditate on You in the night watches, for You have been my help, and in the shadow of Your wings I sing for joy. My soul clings to You; Your right hand upholds me. (Psalm 63:6-8)
Your scriptures tell us that you have measured the waters in the hollow of Your hand and marked the span of the heavens. That you have weighed the mountains and calculated the dust on the earth. (Isaiah 40:12)
You are mighty beyond comprehension, and yet here you are beside me, fully present and loving. You know every tear shed through these trying days. But I rest knowing that my name is written on the palm of your hand. (Isaiah 49:16)
Thank you, I love you.
I miss the closeness that I found in those dark and quiet moments. The busy rush that so easily consumes our days can drown out these opportunities. In looking back over the last 6 years, I realize that the rocker has become my most common meeting place with God. I still find myself there in that chair feeling stranded and at the mercy of my child, but once I settle in I find God waiting patiently for time alone with me. I am fully focused on Him, and He’s ready to talk.