Where Hope Lies

It's no secret that the phrase, "sleep like a baby," referring to getting good, deep sleep, is a little bit comical, especially to parents of newborns.For the past three months, we have definitely been sleeping like our baby, which at this point means waking up frequently throughout the night, sometimes to feed, sometimes to soothe, sometimes to change a diaper.If there's anything that losing so much sleep so abruptly, for a seemingly endless amount of time, has revealed in my life, it's how much I just want to sleep.Sleep is a good thing.We were created to, every day, rest our heads, shut our eyes, and replenish energy for our bodies for hours at a time.There are about a thousand benefits of getting good sleep. Trust me, I've read all the books and posts and everything I can find on the topic...To be honest, it's been a little bit easy to become obsessed with the topic.In the fog of newborn life, I've come to realize that all of the little things seem to slide off to the wayside. Only the most important things seem to fill my free time - when I can find a few minutes to myself. I don't say this as a complaint; for years I have dreamed of having the margins of my life filled with baby care.  But it's simply a reality of my day to day right now that is as much a challenge as it is a delight.It's so hard to adjust to.After Jacob died, I remember feeling so desperate for my baby.  I wanted to have a baby in my arms. I wanted my sleepless nights to be full of consoling a newborn rather than crying in my own grief. I remember wrestling with my identity, wondering who I was, feeling insecure in my new motherhood and also in my loss.  I remember learning the hard way that it wasn't wrapped up in my child.There's something about becoming a mother that has completely revealed those things I hold onto with tight idol-worshipping grasps.In my early days of parenting a baby who no longer lives on this earth, I came to realize how large and looming my idolatry of motherhood was. I realized how much I had put my hope in one day having children, having matching Easter outfits and taking the sweet full family photos. No one would be left out.  I looked at the life of stay at home moms with envy and desire, putting their lives up on pedestals, willingly ignoring what I knew to be true - that that life is far from easy and definitely far from perfect.  When I realized that people didn't see me as a "real" mom, I realized how desperately I wanted that to be the only thing about me that was true.  I realized I thought that having children fill my home was an incredible idol in my life.  I looked at motherhood and imagined it filling my deepest needs and satisfying my every desire.This is how I know that I truly was a mother, even though I had no one to take care of inside my four walls.My oldest baby, even though he was no longer living, changed me. Jacob made me a mom, and he changed me.And now that I do have a little person filling the spaces of my home and occupying every corner of my schedule and mind, continuing to dictate even the routines within my physical body, now that I am experiencing the motherhood I once dreamed of, I see it. I feel it. I know it even more to be true.I was just as much a mother then as I am now. Even though my day to day looks drastically different.The things that went on in my heart are the same. I'm still significantly different before Jacob than I am now, two years and a living child born into this world later.And just as the good things in my heart are the same - the fierceness of love for my children, the desperation to do all I can to care for them, the pride in telling of their stories - so is my heart the same as it once was, even before I had children. So prone to seek fulfillment elsewhere.Now that I'm in the trenches of the newborn fog, I realize that I'm not much different than I was before. I continue to think "If only _____, then I'd be so much better" or "then I'd never ask for anything again" or "then I would have made it."Currently I'm filling the blanks with:     If only I could get her to sleep through the night...     If only I had some time during the day while she napped...     If only John-Mark and I could get more time together...     If only the weather was warm and we could spend all day long outside...Those if-only's: they're glimpses now into the current idols of my heart.Self-fulfillment. Control. Life outside of Jesus. I think that they will satisfy me, but the reality is that I know that they won't. They simply can't.

The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases; his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. "The Lord is my portion," says my soul, "therefore I will hope in him." - Lamentations 3:22-24

My hope is not in a living baby.My hope is not in a few good hours of sleep.My hope is not in warm weather.

My hope is in Jesus.

The Author and Perfector of my faith. The very one who laid down His rights on the throne in order to enter into this world to give me life. And life abundant - this He promised. And He who promised is faithful.Nothing in this world will satisfy.  Motherhood will not satisfy.  My hope cannot be founded in the created things that I worship, but I must exchange those things back and instead, worship the Creator.Realizing this has opened my heart and allowed me to see how deep my desire is for things - comfort, success, pride, approval, the list goes on and on - to actually bring me life. But instead, I must come to realize this: Jesus is where my hope lies, and therefore I must look to him.Oh, for grace to trust Him more! God looks on me with compassion and he says to me - Meg, I am your portion. Put your hope in Me. Allow me to work in your heart. I will bring rest to your soul.This learning of new motherhood. It has shaped me so far more than anything I ever thought could. I'm thankful for it. I would never trade it. It is an honor and a privilege and one I don't take lightly - for I know that it means to be in a season of desiring for what I pictured to come true, of clamoring for it to bring me life, and I see others still aching from loss and still longing for dreams fulfilled. But in it I have seen myself more clearly, and so Jesus looks more precious to me still.  I long for Him to be my true hope, and not for the things I think I don't have.His mercies are new every morning. Great is His faithfulness.