Everyday Adventures: Bath time

"When did basic grooming become such a task," she wondered. Becoming a mother had made her appreciate being able to do things that she had previously taken for granted - like bathe. Jesus said that He came to bring life and life more abundant. She wondered if that meant more. Before Jesus you had one handful of life and once you meet Him, you now have two. 

Today she had three or four handfuls of life. Maybe it was the teething baby that also had a fever and an ear infection. And diarrhea. And diaper rash. Maybe it was the fact that she hadn’t actually eaten anything even resembling a meal today. Maybe it was literally being peed and pooped on that made seem life a little more full today. 

And not in a good way.

She felt weary. Her son had decided that sleeping was optional, especially at night. At 6 weeks, he started sleeping through the night. Now suddenly when he was approaching 6 months, he had apparently decided that he could sleep when he was dead and was up most of the night. At the very minimum, he was up every 2 hours to nurse. That was if he slept at all. 

She decided to Google some of his symptoms to see if there was a growth spurt or something going on that she didn’t know about. About two articles in, she was feeling like the biggest mothering failure in existence. She kept looking at articles thinking that maybe a different article would tell her something different. Instead, she read things like, “If your child isn’t sleeping through the night at 6 months, the problem isn’t the child - it’s you.” “If your child isn’t sleeping through the night at this point, he probably never will.”  

She started her search feeling like she had no idea what she was doing. She ended her search feeling like her pathetic parenting skills were ruining her child possibly forever.

Looking at her son, she wondered if he didn’t agree with her. He had dark circles under his beautiful eyes. The only thing he muster up energy for was to cry/scream/whine. The constant changing of diapers and administering of medicine was clearly taking it’s toll on him.

“I feel ya, Buddy,” she choked out. The mood in her house was despondent at best. At worst, it was belligerently despondent.

The hours creeped by until suddenly she heard the door knob turning. Frantically looking at her phone she realized it was her husband coming home from work. At the same time she realized that she had nothing for dinner. “Great,” she thought. “I fail at being a mom all day, and now I fail at being a wife.” 

Her husband immediately sensed the tone of the room as soon as he walked in. She immediately started apologizing for the state of the living room, kitchen, bathroom, laundry, dishes, dinner, her son and herself. His reassuring, selfless demeanor never faltered. “Why don’t you give me that kid, call and order and pizza and then go take a shower? I’ve got him, don’t worry. Just call and then go get a shower. Better yet, take a bath. I know how much you love those. Babe, go. I’ve got this.”

She knew how hard he had worked all day, and felt guilt wash over her that now he was taking all the responsibility of the chaos that was the house because she was overwhelmed. The “fails” were stacking up against her in such a heaping mound that she was struggling to see any light at all. 

(Now you might be thinking, “She’s awfully dramatic. It’s a sick kid and dirty house.” I will do well to remind you that minimal sleep and maximum bodily fluids contributed to these desperate thoughts.)

Sinking into the bath, she almost instantly started to feel the build up being washed away. Not just physically, but emotionally as well. The noise of the pouring water was creating the illusion that she was alone in the house and her introverted self breathed a sigh of relief. 

The second the bath was full and the water shut off, she heard it. Her son. Not just crying. Screaming and squaking. His tears were thunderous. Like an air raid on her short lived peace. 

Desiring a few more minutes of sanctuary, she slid her head under the water to where her face was still above water, but her ears no longer were. Suddenly she no longer heard her squaking son. She heard nothing of the outside noises from a few seconds earlier. The water was filling every space in her ears and drowning the outside chaos. 

Suddenly that phrase from Scripture “washing with the water of the Word,” filled her mind, and with it a peace that thundered in a different way. 

She knew then what had been missing from this day. The Word. Oh, she had experienced plenty of words that day. Tired. Sick. Fussy. Hurt. Hungry. Dirty. Terrible. Temper. Stir-crazy. Failure. What she needed was The Word. The Living Word. The Word that divides between the temporal and the eternal, between what I think and what He thinks. The Word that fills all the spaces and that goes where nothing else can, and when it gets there, it washes. It cleans the dirtiest and darkest. It gently but purposefully pushes away the build up until what is left is only what He created. The Truth.

And yes, the abundant Life. 

Clean from the soul to sole, she got out of the shower. She blessed the Lord for meeting her where she was at. She got dressed. She went downstairs to her squaking son. She gathered him up in her arms and apologized to him for her awful attitude. He didn’t have words yet to forgive her, but his head calmly on her chest communicated clearly. She apologized to her husband, his reassuring and selfless demeanor still shining through. Then she opened her Bible and was showered with more goodness.