About three months ago, we made plans to go to a concert and have Andrew spend the night with his grandparents.
To say I was looking forward to it is an understatement. I
was literally hanging onto it as a beacon of hope for the future, and not
because I was excited about the concert.
I was excited to sleep in. No baby on Saturday morning to
wake me up at 5:30 or 6 in the AM. Waking up on my own. Lounging in bed. A lazy
morning of breakfast with a good book on my own time. I was more excited for
that than I was for Christmas.
I used it to get through hard days.
If we had a particularly fussy day… “Two months till I can
sleep in.”
If I was really tired or stressed… “Three weeks till I can
sleep in.”
When we all caught colds… “Soon, I can sleep in.”
And then, the night before the concert, we got a phone call.
Grandma was sick and could no longer take the baby for the night.
I was CRUSHED. (Disclaimer- I’m not at all upset with
grandma. I felt awful that she got sick.)
We still got to go to the concert, thanks to Andrew’s other
wonderful grandma coming over to watch him and put him to bed, but my dreams of
a quiet, restful morning were in pieces.
Yes, it was that dramatic to me at the time. And boy, did I
feel stupid. I had put my hopes in something so temporary. It was just one
morning. I wrapped so much hope and emotion into one morning that would have
come and gone in the blink of an eye. I know better, or I thought I did.
Psalm 62:5 “Yes my soul, find rest in God; my hope comes
from him.”
Isaiah 49:23 “…those who hope in me will not be
disappointed.”
Romans 15:13 “May the God of hope fill you with
all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.”
Real hope does not come from a morning of sleeping in. It
comes from God.
My challenge in the coming months is to remember that!
