faith + inspiration

I learned something this past week.

I learned that worship is something different than what I’ve known it to be. I learned that even the most mundane, every day things can be spiritual…an act of worship unto the Lord. I learned that it’s not about being in a church service or singing or all the conventional things we define as worship that actually gives our hearts life and blesses the Lord.

We visited a new church here in Nashville this past Sunday, and boy, did my heart need church. Last week was a particularly challenging week for me, and I was left feeling drained and weary. I hadn’t been at church for two weeks because of our move, and while I believe in the importance of practicing a private/individual relationship with God outside of church, there is just something about being with a gathering of fellow believers to worship and bless God together that offers something different to your heart than all the private worship in the world. We get to this new church and were warmly welcomed and a sweet woman showed us all around and we sat down to wait for the service. I knew Ayla would be ready to eat about the time church started, and so I decided to go ahead and feed her before it began so I could get back in time for worship. Music worship is my favorite way of connecting to God, and I needed it that night. It was like my soul was just craving music worship…my mouth aching to sing…my spirit longing to be touched with a new connection to Jesus.

I fed Ayla and came back into the main room only a few minutes after the first song started…and before I even got to our seats to join Ben, I felt her stiffen up in my arms and soon she starts crying. The music was loud and the lights were dim and it was a strange, new place, and I suddenly knew it would just be too much for her tiny ears and self right now. I took her up to the nursing mama’s room and got her quieted down…and I just wanted to feel frustrated. I NEEDED WORSHIP, GOD.

There was a screen set up in the nursery with live streaming so I could still watch and hear the service, but it just didn’t feel the same, you know? I sat there and started to feel sorry for myself…they were singing some of my favorite songs and I was craving this time and I needed it…and here I was, stuck in the nursery with my baby, unable to worship, unable to engage in what I wanted to do.

And then this quiet voice reminds me…that what I was doing in this moment….loving, nurturing, caring for my child…was worship. This was worship to Him. Being a mama and giving up what I wanted and/or felt like I needed for the sake of my little girl was a pure form of worship…because worship isn’t about singing or music or time with other believers. Worship is about living a life given to Jesus.

So I sat in that room alone, watching my baby girl coo at her little toys, and I was worshipping. It was beautiful and sacred and Jesus met me there. And I learned that sometimes worshipping as a mother looks differently than what we think it is.

What about you: has there been times when responsibilities as a mother have kept you from doing what you felt your heart needed?

I’d love to hear your thoughts!

What is it about a piece of toast that is so comforting?

It must have something to do with how I grew up and whenever we were sick, mom would make us a piece of toast with butter and honey. Even if you weren’t able to eat hardly any of it, it was still such a comfort to have it there beside you and take nibbles of it to help settle an upset stomach. I don’t know if other moms use toast in their homes for their sick ones, but it’s the first thing I offer to Ben or myself when we’re not feeling good.

Sometimes I need a piece of toast for comfort even when I’m feeling perfectly healthy.

It’s been a doozy of a week and not necessarily because of the new home and new area and new everything. It’s been fun and exciting to settle in and unpack boxes and begin to learn a new community. But Ayla’s been in the middle of a growth spurt and also trying to adjust to a new place and also getting close to the four-month mark, which according to what I’ve heard can often be a difficult time of transition with eating and sleep patterns. She’s not been napping as well and just a lot fussier in general for the past week. These seasons are all a part of parenting, and I know that, but honestly this week has worn me down. I feel like my patience and grace levels are pretty low, and I think the busyness and upheaval of the past few weeks finally caught up to me.

Honestly, yesterday wasn’t a great day for me. Ayla was having a hard day with naps and the one she did have were short and she would wake up feeling cranky because she still needed more sleep, which made me feel cranky and frustrated. I got super upset at Ben for making a decision that I didn’t like and was literally acting like a twelve-year-old brat because of it. Like, silent-treatment-don’t-talk-to-me-right-now-because-i’m-really-mad-and-just-want-to-be-mad-for-awhile kind of upset. It’s embarrassing now, and I apologized for my awful behavior and we talked through all the drama I was feeling inside of me…and I realized all over again how absolutely thankful I am to have this incredibly good man as my husband, who loves me and gives me grace in the middle of my mess.

We sat down for supper (which didn’t turn out great…further adding to my annoyed list of woes) and about halfway through, Ayla is hungry…so I stop to feed her. She also hasn’t been nursing as well this week, but for some reason, she was so unhappy and unsettled and upset when she was trying to eat her supper. She would nurse and pull off and burst into tears…and just kept doing that over and over. I tried switching sides and burping her and giving her gas drops and bouncing her around…but nothing helped. She seemed so hungry, but yet unable to eat…and it made me feel like such a failure, really. Why couldn’t I seem to give her what she needed? And for that matter, what did she need?

Ben ended up taking her upstairs to have a bath, which settled her down and she went to sleep soon after. I sat in the living room with tears on my face and realized that I just needed a piece of toast. I needed more than that too…I needed to refocus and pray and spend time talking with Ben, and I did all those things and it quieted my soul. But first, toast.

What about you: what helps comfort your soul in the middle of a hard day?

I’d love to hear your thoughts!