Things do change when you have kiddies, and I'm not just talking about the extra 10 pounds I've been frontpacking for the past half a year. My mentality has shifted into sort of a maternal proclivity to protect my young more so than any other instinct. This may have had inklings in my dealings with family and friends, all too often related to food! I wanted to take care of the peeps in my life, and what better way to do than to feed them? I have since learned that there are better ways to care for and protect others. Albeit somewhat extreme, how about taking a bullet for someone? I have had one friend proclaim that kind of sacrificial love for me years ago, and I am still touched by her unselfish gesture, even if it was just through words. But I think that even she would think twice now that she has kiddies to watch over too. Maybe if the bullet she took for me could be removed and she would recover, then she would be willing to do it. Hmm, I'll have to ask her. But see, this goes one step beyond genuine care for a friend. And this protective quality didn't manifest itself as my foremost feeling until the girls invaded my life.
I think it's common to hear people desire to take on pain for their children. Even when my little one doesn't sleep well because of a winter cold, I secretly wish to take on the germs for her. I wish I could give her my breath so she could sleep peacefully through the night. But is it so irrational to even give me a disdain for the lone mosquito that dared enter my household in search of fresh blood? On two occasions, I have found myself up late at night hunting a pest down to keep it from finding prey in my little ones. When I wake up with puffy eyelids and a red forehead from a battle lost (though a war later won!), I count those battle wounds as essential scars. And I am grateful my girls come out unscathed.
I could continue to be fecetious about this, but now that I face a more serious illness with one child, I find myself simply helpless to fight her battle for her. I suppose that's how the Lord designed us to be, wholly dependent on Him. But why must little children suffer so that we might learn this lesson? Perhaps I am being a bit too self centered in assuming that that is what it's about. All I know is that the screams of my little baby are painful and true. And all I want to do is hug it all away. But if I've learned anything from Gloria's passing, I do know that He can and is glorified in all our suffering. And I'll be darned if He isn't through this.
