Come to me all you who labor and are heavy-laden and overburdened, and I will cause you to rest. (I will ease and relieve and refresh your souls). - Jesus
Oliver was out of his mind today, literally out of his mind, screaming at the top of his lungs. He had a full tummy, a clean diaper, and in fact, was fresh out of a bath himself —and he was out of his mind. Blood-curdeling screams people. And after two months, I'm learning to read him. I'm learning his schedule and his signals. I can see it in his eyes, what he needs... not perfectly... but well enough for us to make it through the day. And my momma heart knew that he needed a nap. He was absolutely spent and nothing could fix it but sleep. And trust me, I have been there myself... where the only cure is sleep. You know those days, where you just need to be put out of your misery and you know that an hours nap can cure whatever ails you.
So I carried this red-faced, screaming bundle to his room. I laid him down, pinned his arms to his chest and swaddled him tightly as one of the handful of tears he has ever cried trickled down the side of his face. I picked him up and pulled him close against my chest and held a pacifier in his mouth... and I kid you not, we went from a 10 to a 0 in less than three seconds. His lids got heavy and he batted dreamy eyes at me, his body unwound itself, and I could literally feel him breathe out the tension. I sat him back down in his bassinet and he closed his eyes and disappeared into sleep.
He could not have gotten there without me. I've been around some infants whose parents set them down in a bouncy seat or a swing and come back a few minutes later and the babe is passed out. That must be some kind of wonderful. That is not the son I was blessed with. Our little guy needs someone to cause him to rest. He cannot get there on his own. He needs to be wrapped up tightly, for his pacifier to be held in place, to be held against his dad's or my chest for a bit and then he can let go of this reality and drift off to the sleep he so desperately needs.
As I held my son tightly this afternoon and watched him quiet, Jesus' words flashed into my mind... Come to Me... I will cause you to rest. Sometimes I just can't get there on my own. I need to be picked up, red-faced and screaming, wrapped tightly and pulled in close. Sometimes I can't get there on my own and I need Him to cause me to rest. I need Him to make that happen for me. Maybe that's just me and Oliver. Or maybe not.