jealous.

At 9:45pm my cell phone rang.  It was Trinity, who was at our house watching Norah while Dan and I spent a couple of hours with some friends.  Norah had woken up and Trinity couldn’t soothe her despite all her efforts.  Trinity’s awesome, but she is not mommy.

So Dan and I quickly returned home.  When we pulled up in front of the house, Dan said, “Don’t come in right away.  Let me go in first and you come later. I want to come to the rescue.”  Dan knew that Norah would choose him over Trinity for comfort and security, but once she saw me, it was all over for him.

Today, I am still Norah’s choice.  Her first choice.  She loves her daddy wildly, but there is just something about mommy.

Last night, I was up with her in the middle of the night. Several times.  I would answer her cries, pick her up, and soothe her until she fell back asleep in my arms.  Then, I would lay her back in the crib and leave the room, but once I laid her down she woke right back up. And she would cry.  And cry, and cry, and cry.  This cycle happened several times until mommy, in my own tiredness, was feeling a little unhinged.

So it was Daddy’s turn.  The funny thing about Daddy’s turn is this: at first I am relieved for Dan to get up and take care of her so I can sleep (especially when I am losing it because Norah is not “cooperating”).  The problem is, I can’t sleep.  Instead, I lay in bed, trying my best attempts at dosing, and fight this strange urge to get back up and take over again.  I want to fix “it.” I can help Norah get back to sleep quicker and easier.  I’m better at it.  She prefers me.

Why can’t I just go to sleep?!

This morning, God put words to it- I’m jealous for her.  My love for her is strong.  Even when she is difficult to care for, when it’s 3:44 am, I am walking around with my eyes closed, and no matter what I do, I can’t get her to go back to sleep in her crib, in the deepest part of my heart, I don’t want her to want anyone else.  I love when she wants me.  I love that she finds the most comfort, the most security, the most peace…in me.

And she’s smart.  She doesn’t choose me first for no reason.  I am the one who changes her diaper 85% of the time.  I am the one who feeds her 90% of the time.  I am the one who can tell whether she is fussy because she is tried, or hungry, or her teething gums hurt, or she is just mad that the squirrel ran away and she wasn’t done looking at him.  I am the one who knows how to care for her best, not because Dan isn’t a good dad (I’m convinced he is the best dad Norah could ever have), but because I am the one who is always with her.

I know her best (…for now).

So this morning I am reminded that He is jealous for me.  He loves when I want Him, when I find the most comfort, the most security, and the most peace in Him.  He loves when I choose Him first to meet my needs, those tangible and those of my heart.  He knows how to care for me best, not because Dan is not a good husband, or my parents are not good parents, or my friends are not good friends, but because He is the one who is always with me (well, that…and He created me).

He knows me best (…forever).

I’m thankful for His jealousy, for I believe that it fuels Him to come to me every time I cry out, the same way my energy is renewed to get back up, once again, and go to Norah.

I’m also thankful for coffee.

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3 Responses to jealous.

  1. Ashleigh says:

    I can relate. And this speaks to my heart. Thanks for this!

  2. Micah says:

    Amy, you need to send this to Oprah… did she one time say that she didn’t want to serve a jealous god? She just doesn’t understand how beautiful his jealousy is!

  3. Elizabeth Provencio says:

    Amy, Your Dad recommended I read this, and I am so glad I did. You should write a book. You have an amazing gift to weave the Word in to the lives of new mothers (like you and I). There is a dearth of books for new mothers–and that’s when we need the inspiration the most. Thank you for opening your heart in this blog and sharing. I hope you consider a book deal soon! Much love and admiration, Liz Provencio

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