God at 3 O’ Clock
I remember it was a weekend for the books. Chad realized that he was getting another kidney stone. As he started chugging gallons of water and went to the doctor to get some medicine that might keep him out of the emergency room, we found out Sawyer had tonsillitis. Antibiotics, Mucinex, breathing treatments. One night of coughing until 3 a.m. Then, Emerald started vomiting. That’s right; she came down with something different from Sawyer had. Sitting up until, yep, 3 a.m., trying to catch vomit in a bowl. Have you been there? In those 3 a.m. moments? When it feels like the whole world is sleeping soundly, but you are up wringing your hands or watching Mickey Mouse Clubhouse with a miserable baby or crying out to God that He will take away your pain, take away your child’s pain, hear you when He feels so far away? Have you laid in bed with eyes wide open, picturing all the ways you should be doing more, being more? Have you had a middle-of-the-night panic session? In those dark, dark moments, dark sky, dark house, dark mind, it can be so hard to feel like God is near. It can seem impossible what you’re facing. It can get the best of you if you let it. But, why do we give the best of ourselves to worry, doubt, fear, when there is only One worthy of our best? Why spend so much of our energy, time, thinking power, spiritual well-being, deep soul strength, on all of the unknowns and the questions and the nerves? Because there are plenty of things that we know if we believe in God’s word. We know He is good. Psalm 136:1; We know He is in control. Proverbs 16:9; We know that He loves us. John 3:16; We know that He doesn’t change. Hebrews 13:8; We know that He is working things out. Romans 8:28 And, even while we know all of these things, all it takes is one little bump in the road to make us panic. We had plans that didn’t work out. We had goals that we never met. We were disappointed by someone again. What always shocks me about myself is how TINY the problems that send me reeling. Oh, me of little faith. But God sees my weakness. He isn’t shocked by it, nor is He disgusted by it. Instead, He works in His amazing ways to change my thinking, to make me want more of Him. To help me, in those 3 a.m. moments, when I am so tired, when I am so worn-out in every way, to sing His praises. To look at the face of my sick baby and worship God because she is here. And because He is so very present, even when I don’t acknowledge it. He helps me rub my little boy’s back through the breathing treatments, overwhelming me with the power of God’s love for me. His love, which powered my love for Chad and his for me, which fueled our love for these precious ones. And, at 3 a.m., when my eyes are only half open, my heart is opened to His great love, the source of all love, and the reason that life is worth living. Oh, He is good. At 3 a.m. At the best times and the worst times. When I can see His hand, and when I feel lost, He is still there. He is still good. He is still God.