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Nursing, Cold Sores, and Prayer

  • February 1, 2019
  • By Donielle
  • 0 Comments
Nursing, Cold Sores, and Prayer

I nurse my 19 month old. Nursing doesn’t even get fun until after they are a year old. Their legs need to be long enough so that their feet can reach the chair you are sitting on. That way they can climb, bounce, dance while they nurse. It doesn’t get really exciting until they use your arm as a balance beam and try to nurse while looking the same direction you are facing. Maximum twist is apparently the goal. My stretchability would make Inspector Gadget jealous. I know, TMI. It’s funny if you have been a nursing mom.

“Picking” battles

I have this big, nasty cold sore on my lip. It is a doozy. Sorry to be gross, but it happens to all of us. If you combine a yucky fever blister with a very curious nursing toddler, well, I don’t think I have to spell it out for you. Pain and a good chance of scarring. So I asked my baby to pray for the ouchie instead of trying to remove it. It is adorable to watch her little finger raise up for an attack and come back down to fold her hands.

I wish I could be so easily trained to turn from trying to fix problems on my own, to praying to my Heavenly Father. My efforts sometimes come out the same way as my baby’s efforts to fix me: messy at best and making matters worse at… well, worst.

Learning to rest

.I have tried to be the Holy Spirit for others. Ask my siblings how they felt about that. It won’t be rave reviews because it doesn’t work, folks. It is God’s great compassion that draws us to repentance, not nagging or fretting (Romans 2:4). Resting in God, His will, His good timing, and His methods, has reduced the stress in my life. I am learning to say with the psalmist, “I find my rest in God alone.” Psalm 62:1 (NIRV). Bible.org has a terrific commentary on Psalm 62. You can read my story of overcoming fear here.

After my snuggly little one prays, or folds her hands and points for me to pray, not wanting to unlatch from the milk source for anything, she drifts off into a contented sleep, resting in my arms. Parenting is a metaphor for our relationship with God at every turn. I picture God’s hug for me, his arms around me when I am despairing. His presence is rest. Just like a reassuring hug from my own Daddy, God’s comfort is waiting for me when I trust him.

By Donielle, February 1, 2019
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