I had just endured a solid ten minutes of listening to Daphne scream her lungs out as I attempted to change her diaper. With that task accomplished (including getting her miniature leggings back on her flailing legs), I was walking back out to the common area of our church when my friend Kelsey (who had suffered through the ordeal with me – teamwork!) made a statement that made me stop and think. I can’t remember her exact words (my nerves were still a bit frazzled) but they were something to the effect of how it warmed her heart to witness that experience. She said it was like being able to see how we probably react to God at times: maybe He tries to help us – but we flail our legs and scream and cry. At that very moment, I didn’t give it much thought – but I do remember thinking that I’d never really thought of Daphne that way… as a way to maybe see God more clearly.
I remember very vividly when Karen (my best friend – though that title doesn’t do nearly enough justice to convey everything she means to me) told me she was pregnant. I cried. Ugly tears. Not my finest moment – but I was scared. We were both finally at a stage in life where we could have adventures and grow and laugh and be silly. I knew a baby meant she was going to grow up without me; her life would be changing and mine would remain stagnant. With a baby, her attention would be permanently diverted elsewhere and I honestly wasn’t sure how much room there would be left for me. And all of this would be happening to me through no choice of my own. I felt out of control.
As the next nine months crept forward, I started to grow more excited – I couldn’t wait to meet this little person who would change my life and my relationship with Karen. She and I would chat for hours about names and try to imagine what she would be like – if she would do this like Karen or have this feature like Aaron. More than anything else, I just wanted her to love me. Finally, the big day arrived. I walked into the hospital room, too afraid to hold Daphne for fear that I would drop her. But they sat me down and put her in my arms – and I cried. I’d never seen something so perfect, so beautiful. It was truly love at first sight.
Flash forward back to this morning: I’m sitting in church service and I look down to watch Daphne sleeping in my arms. Leaning down, I whisper to her:
“You are SO loved. I love you SO much.”
And it all just starts clicking into place – what an awesome God we serve! To bless me with the gift of Daphne! For making her in such a way that gives me a glimpse of who He is! All of a sudden, I can hear him:
Natalie, you are SO loved. I love you SO much. More than anything else, I just want you to love Me. You are perfect and beautiful – for you were made in My image. I’ve loved you from first sight and for all eternity before and after.
Now when Daphne smiles at me because she sees me and recognizes me, I’ll think about how God beams when we acknowledge His wonderful presence. When Daphne needs help to do the simplest of tasks, I’ll think about how God has made Himself and His strength available to us for anything and everything we encounter throughout the day. How He will sit with us patiently and hold our hand through it if we need Him to. When Daphne kicks and screams as I try to change her diaper, I’ll remember that God is good and everything He does is to our benefit. What He is doing might be uncomfortable or perhaps even a little painful – but I will put my trust in Him as Daphne puts her trust in me. If she can feel safe and secure in my weak, sinful human arms, imagine how secure we can be in the arms of our Father.
Lord, thank you for Daphne. Thank you for her love and trust in me. Thank you for her sweet little face and silly tongue that hangs out all the time. Thank you for the joy that she brings to my life – and to the lives of those who see her. And finally, thank you for revealing Yourself to me through her. It’s so much more than I deserve.
For Your glory,
Nat
