"Baby dry"

This post is dedicated to my wonderful Aunt Peggy, who supplied me with a whole CASE of "Baby dry" Pamper's diapers. Thank again, woman. You are awesome. :)

So the irony of Pamper's "Baby dry diapers" is that, should your little boy baby somehow wriggle his little boy baby parts out of the "Baby dry" diaper in the middle of the night, both baby and the mommy sleeping in close proximity turn out to be not so dry...much less "baby dry". However, the "Baby dry" diaper, did remain "Baby dry".

So...I wouldn't so much call it false advertisement, so much as it is just a little misleading.

Funny thing is, when you're awakened at 3 am and have a six week old baby, there are very few things that can persuade you to actually pursue consciousness and get up, other than the before-mentioned six week old baby.

So when I suddenly awoke at 3 am this morning and noticed that the front of my t-shirt was all but soaking wet, I thought perhaps I had been sweating in my sleep...yeah, kinda gross. But baby hormones do strange things to one's body, so it was totally a possibility.

It was only when I got up three hours later that I realized the baby was soaking wet also. And when I removed the wet outfit, realized that his little boy part had somehow worked its way out of the now half-removed "baby dry" diaper. Tinkle. I slept in a puddle of tinkle long enough that it was completely dry by the time I got up...

Mommy sleep...it is hardcore dude.

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And the rain, rain, rain came down, down, down.

I love the rain.

On a lazy spring day with a good book and a cup of coffee, a good rain is the cherry on top.

I could sit at my kitchen table and look out the window for hours, watching the droplets of water slowly fill the uneven cracks in the warm, steamy concrete. Even the kids become lethargic, nibbling at a snack and draping their little bodies across one another on the couch while they halfheartedly watch Kipper.

Ahh. Life at it's best.

But rain... on a day when you have to load two young children and a newborn into the minivan in their Sunday-best, then unload and run them into the Sanctuary--screaming and dripping, then have them sit still and quiet through an hour and a half of worship--still wet and now cold, then repeat the whole process on the way back to the house...

Awful.

I'll go so far as to say that I feel personally offended that God would have it rain on me on a day like this.

I mean...why? What did I do to deserve this?

Of course that is ridiculous, but I'm just being honest.

My life as of late feels much like this example of a rainy day. I'm tired and frantic and unorganized and just dripping with self pity. And the storms never stop.

Seminary life is no joke.

We have been met with the storms of financial instability, the rain of depression and hopelessness, and the slow trickle of insecurity of the call to be here. The rain of attack from Satan on our marriage is violent and never-ceasing. Our hearts are so saturated by the rain of life that it overflows, no--we pour it out--on our children. They're flooded with our anger and impatience in discipline, our disinterested and distracted interaction, and an overall sense of anxiety and restlessness.

And what is my reaction?
Why? Why God? Why me?

I like to play dumb with God. I like to look up to the heavens with my lip jutted out and pretend that I think this rain is a sign of His disappointment in me.

But I know better. It's quite the opposite. These trials are not made for hearts of stone, but hearts of flesh. Hearts that need to be broken, and humbled and made dependent upon Him.
Must I really be so sanctified? Yes.

Paul writes, "So to keep me from becoming conceited because of the surpassing greatness of the revelations, a thorn was given me in the flesh, a messenger of Satan to harass me, to keep me from becoming conceited. Three times I pleaded with the Lord about this, that it should leave me. But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me. For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities. For when I am weak, then I am strong." 2 Cor 12

Oh, what comfort is derived from remembering this!

I know that the rain that floods and drowns my soul is the very same rain that gives life. Without rain, we would wither and die. And I take hope in the verses of Mathew that promise that though the rain never stops, God will sustain me if my hope is set in him.

"Everyone then who hears these words of mine and does them will be like a wise man who built his house on the rock. And the rain fell, and the floods came, and the winds blew and beat on that house, but it did not fall, because it had been founded on the rock." Matthew 7:24-25

Like a man thrown overboard, tossed and turned by the waves, weary and exhausted by the struggle to climb back on ship, I seek refuge in Him. And He delivers me. My joy is made new, for my joy is in Him. And maybe my lungs will continue to sting and ache from the battle in the sea. Maybe the rains will return. Maybe I'll fall back in to be tossed and turned and faced with destruction. But if so, I will give Him praise for reminding me of my weakness...and His Power that is made perfect in it.

I love the rain. Pin It