I'm a rule follower.
I know, I know. "Women who behave rarely make history." But I kind of don't agree. I think that following the RIGHT rules - the ones God made for us - frees us to be exactly who He calls us to be, gives us confidence sometimes to break other rules when necessary, and keeps us on the best path while avoiding all those ugly bunny-trails that can so screw up our lives, our hearts, and those we love.
But that's not really my point here. My point is: being a mommy is hard for me because there are no rules for me to follow.
Well, ok, there are some. Love my girl. Teach her about God and His Word and His faithfulness. Remember that God alone makes her dwell in safety. (We sing Steve Green's rendering of Psalm 4:8 as Megan's lullaby every night.)
But, lets be honest, the day-to-day of these things are really left up to us. And, while she's still an infant and not understanding language, its even more obvious (than it will be when she's older) that teaching Megan about God and His faithfulness does not merely (or at all right now) mean talking to her about God and His acts throughout history and in our lives.
At one of my baby showers, the women pounded into my head that I need to rely on my instincts as a mom. (Ok, it didn't feel as bullying as that, but they were definitely pretty encouragingly insistent.) And when Megan was a newborn, those instincts seemed pretty strong (most of the time). But the thing about instincts is you can't point the finger somewhere else and say, "This solid, firm, always right thing says to do it this way so, even if you don't agree, that's how I'm doing it." Its all on you. And your "instincts". Which could easily be mistaken for whims, feelings, or sleep-deprivation induced ravings.
In our family, Jamie is the naturally instinctive one. I'm all reason, rationality, and argument. Jamie is the one who's likely to say in a conversation that he just doesn't feel right about something, or that he feels like God is saying something to him. And, because he's been proven right over and over again in his "feelings", I tend to listen and trust him in those instincts. I, however, will ALWAYS try to reason things out, see the other side, and make sure I can argue that my way is the right way. I drive Jamie crazy with my devil's advocate stance on every conversation topic and decision.
I guess what I'm trying to say is that the decision making of being a mom is not an easy thing for me. I want rules. "When Megan wakes up at 4 am for the 5th time that night, here's what you do. Period." Ha. And even reading parenting books doesn't really help. The Bible doesn't weigh in on Baby-wise vs. Attachment Parenting. Oh how I wish it would. :)
Most of the time I'm really pretty good at the physical demands of parenting a baby. Yes, I get grouchy and zombie like with sleep deprivation, but I don't mind it too much. Yeah, my knees hurt every time I get up or down with her in my arms, but I can get over it..until I think I'm doing it WRONG.
That's when I start to freak out.
Because there are no rules by which to measure my parenting. And no ten steps to ensure that Megan will grow up secure, loving the Lord, and healthy.
And maybe that's why its important that we sing to her every night:
"I will lie down and sleep in peace, for You alone, O Lord, make me dwell in safety." (Ps. 4:8)
Because only God's hands are big enough to hold Megan's future. No matter what it may hold.
