One of the nice aspects of having a baby in the non-mobile stage is that he or she is portable. I think the Lord eases us into parenthood with babies who can go with us pretty much anywhere so we won't feel quite so overwhelmed by the enormous change we've just undertaken. At least I have enjoyed this stage with each of my children. You just strap them into a car seat and they're good to go. The car seat sits right on top of the grocery cart and, if you have a Graco "transportation system," they just snap into a coordinating stroller and you're on your way. Easy peasy.
Unless it's raining. Then, my friend, you are in for a day of being wet and grumbling about it. Frankly, I'd just assume stay home on rainy days with babies. Here's why: there is absolutely no way to keep from getting soaked while getting a stroller in and out of a trunk, followed by placing the baby in the stroller. It's a two-handed job, and there are no two ways about it. Add in a toddler to go along on the trip and you've got yourself a nightmare, sister.
When I accepted an invitation weeks ago to attend a Women's study celebration at church, I did so with great anticipation. I sat out of a study this semester because I wanted to get settled with my newborn before leading another group, and I had really missed being in one. Plus, the celebrations are just fun - there's a room full of at least a couple hundred ladies chatting and worshipping, and everyone brings a brunch dish to share. I booked a babysitter for my 2-year-old daughter and planned to take my very portable 3-month-old son along, as he is rarely a distraction at this stage.
But when I woke up to a downpour Tuesday morning, I regretted having made such solid plans. Being down one kid, I'd figured I could easily slip in and out of the grocery store on the way to church to pick up a dish. But I didn't even want to think about doing that in the November rain, let alone fumbling through the monsoon with a baby, a double stroller and food in tow. I did it, though, because when I say I'm going to be somewhere I keep my promises. But that didn't mean I was going to do it with a good attitude, and regrettably I didn't. I felt like I was moving in slow motion, wrestling that baby seat out of my car while trying to balance an oversized golf umbrella between my chin and shoulder. Unsuccessfully, I might add. Weren't passers-by just gawking instead of helping me? Inside the store, shoppers' carts were slow-moving and employees were stocking the very shelves I needed to get to. And when I finally reached the register, I discovered that once again I'd left my discount card at home. Sigh. Back in the car I consoled myself that I was doing the right thing by honoring the plans I'd made and bringing food. I pulled into a parking spot at church and proceeded with the same rain-and-windswept waltz to the doors with my stroller. Poor me.
Walking into the fellowship hall, albeit wet, I felt instantly relieved. Familiar faces soothed my stress as I found the table with my friends and sat down with my contented baby. After chatting over hot coffee, fruit and bagels with cream cheese, we listened as the teacher made some summary remarks about the semester's focus: becoming a God seeker, a study I'd taken last year and knew to be an enriching one. I listened as ladies took the mic to share how God had been moving in their lives. One talked about how a daughter had come to know Christ, after years of praying for her. Another told of how God comforted her after her teenager was killed. One lady after another shared how the Lord has proven Himself faithful in her life, and I could only hold back my tears as I recalled how gracious He's been in my own. I mean, there I was holding one of His greatest gifts to me. We worshipped together, singing praise songs and praying for more growth.
Blessed. How could I feel anything but completely, utterly blessed? But what's more is that I would have missed all this if I'd have followed my instincts to stay home. It would have been easier, but my heart wouldn't have had the benefit of all that testimony. I would have missed out on another encounter with my Lord. It was a reminder to me that when we're called into communion with God, we're not called to live a comfortable life. Sometimes it means taking risks by the world's standards. Sometimes it means trading an extra hour of sleep for quiet time studying Scripture and praying. And sometimes it means walking through the rain to meet Him anywhere He calls you. Next time I hope I'll do less grumbling on the trip.
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