With bleary eyes, I stepped over my 6th born this morning. . . asleep in the hall, where she's been every night for the last month or so, since we told her she couldn't sleep on the floor by our bed, anymore.
There's something so sad about her curled up little body sleeping outside our door. As close as she can get without being IN the room with us. Not to mention the fact that it can't be very comfortable.
How odd that in this moment, my mind wanders back to a trip to Taiwan way back when . . before I had the Coach or the troops.
We stayed in a youth hostel. I can still remember he noise, the food (I've never quite understood how bread with a slice of cucumber you can see through is a "sandwich", but maybe it's why everyone is that culture is so thin!), the traffic outside our windows, and our constant campaign to get to a McDonald's for something to eat that we could recognize!
The room wasn't bad. It wasn't great, either. Three of us. Bunks end to end on one wall. Every night and every morning and sometimes during the dark in between, I'd hear my friend exclaim,
"YA'LL, THESE BEDS ARE SOOOO HAARRRRD!" in her Southern drawl.
She had a point. I think our carpeted hall is probably softer.
And these last few weeks, I've found myself saying over and over (in my head, mostly),
"YA'LL, BEING A PARENT IS SOOOO HAARRRRD!"
I don't know what is wrong.
I don't know how to fix it.
I don't know what's causing the problem.
I don't know how much is emotional and how much is physical (can a little 9 year old girl even tell?).
I don't know WHAT TO DO.
I don't know how long I can go without decent sleep (we're heading into month 4, at this point).
I don't know why the Lord is allowing this.
I don't know how much to "push" her and how much to just comfort her.
Or how to do both at the same time.
I. DON'T. KNOW.
And in the dark early hours, I am sometimes frustrated with God for not making it all more clear.
As a mom, you try everything you know to try. Then you try some more things you hadn't thought of before. Then you keep going, even though you don't know where you are headed with the whole big mess.
We are so very tired.
I think of that quote (I should go hunt down the source, but thank you for giving me the grace to skip it just now),
"Oh the JOY of a trial, accepted."
The JOY. Of a TRIAL. ACCEPTED.
Maybe the joy is only possible when we accept (not fight against) this hard thing because it comes from the hand of a Loving, Sovereign Lord.
I trust Him. With my self, my marriage, my troops, my hurting girl.
"Strength for today and bright hope for tomorrow, Great is THY faithfulness, Lord until me."