Teething and the Moon

Teething.  It is much more dramatic than it sounds.  For the first 9 months of his life, my baby was as sweet as they come.  He would sleep and play and giggle and I even was able to get things done.  Then he started teething.  He has turned into a little monster, especially at night.  Five little chompers have emerged in the past month…with many still to come.  It’s time to readjust!  One of the new monster transformations is that he wakes up at night screaming.  He is inconsolable and just wants to scream.  Needless to say, at 2am that is very frustrating.

Earlier this week we had a late-night “date.”   I was at the end of my rope trying to comfort him and stay patient myself.  I prayed for grace and guidance and had the impression to take him outside.  Sure, we have already awakened everyone inside the house; why not wake up the whole neighborhood, right?  I followed the impression and as we walked out into the backyard I was touched by the beauty of the scene.  It wasn’t the sea of dirt or the muddy tennis shoes and sandals, but the magical aura of the full moon that enchanted me.  It obviously had the same effect on my little guy because he immediately stopped crying.  We sat together for half an hour.  He sniffled off and on, but gradually relaxed and fell asleep.  My process was pretty much the same. 

Looking up at the bright sky I was touched by the majesty and closeness of God.  I thought of the creation story.  God created a greater light to rule the day and a lesser light to rule the night.  Sometimes I live in the glorious sunshine of life and things flow smoothly and I feel happy.  God is my God.  I know how to seek Him and feel His love, and I strive to follow His guidance.  I like those times.  But, as sure as the sun will set, I also have times of darkness—the exhausting, life-sucking challenges that seem to come in waves.  During these times I have to admit I don’t always feel connected to God.  I try, but I don’t always feel confident and I don’t always feel the divine comfort that I crave.  This was one of those times.  I felt like I wasn’t understanding and meeting the needs of my baby.  I was so tired from these nightly adventures, and that sleep deprivation was bringing out the monster in me.  I felt alone.  I felt like a failure.  I knew I had the love and support of my husband (who has taken his share of late-night dates with the monster), my mother (who is living with us and fills in so many gaps in life), and my kids (who are such great helpers).  Nevertheless, I felt alone in that moment.  

As I looked up at the moon I had the sudden urge to be held in the big, warm, safe, comforting arms of my Heavenly Father.  I prayed for that.  Just like my baby needed comfort, I needed comfort from someone beyond myself.  As I sat in the flowing light of the full moon with tears flowing down my face and the warm summer breeze blowing gently on me and my little monster I felt a peace I hadn’t felt for awhile.  A deep peace.  I knew my Heavenly Father knew of my needs and the needs of my baby.  It would be OK.  He is there to rule and guide my heart in times that are as dark as night as well as the times that are as bright as day.  It may not look the same, and it may not even feel the same.  The sun and the moon are different.   The moon is not always full.  The moon is not always visible.  And yet, from the day of its creation it has been there to reflect the light of the sun—the love of the Father—into the darkest of nights.

The monster still wakes up every night.  I still feel sleep-deprived.  I have a greater peace now though.  My baby won’t be teething forever (fortunately!).  Some day he will be grown and gone and I will miss our late-night dates.  Between now and then I have a lot of time though—time to teach him to seek God in the darkness, to have faith that the moon will be there to give its light even though it may not always be visible in the moment, to trust that the sun will rise again and even the hardest challenges give way to brighter days.