You are my sunshine, my only sunshine
You make me happy when skies are gray
You’ll never know dear how much I love you
So please don’t take my sunshine away
-You Are My Sunshine
The Lord your God is in your midst,
a mighty one who will save;
he will rejoice over you with gladness;
he will quiet you by his love;
he will exult over you with loud singing.
-Zephaniah 3:17
It happened earlier this summer, this little story.
There we were, waiting ever so patiently in the pharmacy drive-thru, our new family of 4. We wanted to get a few errands done, so we planned our outing around Newborn Son’s naps and feedings, and set out! SO EXCITING TO LEAVE THE HOUSE! Even just to run errands that involve drive-thrus! Postpartum life PLUS Covid….I MEAN.
All was well. Toddler Daughter was happy. Newborn Son was quiet for the moment. I was merrily entertaining visions of checking off To-Do List Items.
Then it happened.
Newborn Son awoke to find himself NOT in the arms of a parental unit. To make his indignation complete, he was most uncozily deposited in a non-personal carseat. And he hadn’t eaten in a WHOLE HOUR.
Wailing! Gnashing of newborn gums! Sobbing! Gagging on said sobbing!
Ugh, why are there so many cars ahead of us?
After a few minutes of trying to sooth from the front seat, I got out and took him out, carseat and all, into the pharmacy drive-thru lane and onto the sidewalk. I discovered an impressive display of SPIT UP, all over Newborn Son, car seat straps, car seat cover, and who knows where else. My poor little buddy! I rocked his seat back and forth on the pavement while masked strangers whisked past us and we waited to get back in the car and make our great escape back home.
At home, I got him out of his soaked onesie and after I fed him, he spat up…again. Alllllll over me and my clean shirt.
So what did we do? I settled him on my chest, wrapped him in a blanket, and soothed him to sleep. After I watched many, many episodes of The Posh Frock Shop, he woke up a couple hours in to smile up at me and then went back to sleep.
And my heart was undone and my brain exploded.
I didn’t care about my soaked t-shirt, my skin that would need a wet wipe once I got up from the couch (who has time for a shower?). I didn’t care about the car seat. Or the missed chance to get errands done.
All I saw when I looked down at my son was the face of love. I couldn’t believe I got to be the one whose face he saw when he woke up, to be the one to comfort him and take care of him. Spit up and all.
He is lovely.
Lovely in his spit up. Lovely when we’re both frustrated at how hard breastfeeding is. Lovely when I have to change his diaper and clothes and crib sheets and sleep sacks YET AGAIN. Lovely when he smiles at me. Lovely when he needs me to hold him, lovely when he’s content to sit in his little cushion for a bit. Lovely when he’s sleeping peacefully, lovely when he’s grunting and wanting to eat at 4am.
And friends, of course, Jesus finds you delightful and lovely. In all your moments. In all your versions of yourself.
This thought occurred to me when, in the middle of changing him and running around the house trying TO DO ALL THE MAMA THINGS, I caught a brief glimpse of myself in the mirror and was instantly, knee-jerk-annoyed with my post-pregnant body. The baby weight isn’t coming off like I want it to, and that’s just messing with my brain, to be honest. I have this image of what I look like and the mirror is not reflecting that image back to me.
That mirror is also telling me I’m not 20-something anymore. I see some wrinkles. I see frizzy bun hair, complete with some gray strands. I see very tired eyes. I see a belly that just won’t quit. I see hunched-over shoulders from hours of difficult breastfeeding. I see a body that is in between clothing sizes and making do with pregnancy clothes, because COVID.
And yet, I am beloved. I am still lovely, because Jesus sees me that way. Scripture tells us He dances over us, exalts over us, sings over us. Not unlike a new and beaming parent, bubbling over with love and joy at the mere existence of a new and tiny person. Newborn Son can’t do a thing yet. He can’t solve any problems. He can’t do anything for himself or others. And yet just because he is here, he is lovely and worthy of everything I do for him. Right now, I don’t feel like any great version of myself. But glory be: His love isn’t based on my constantly fluctuating abilities, limitations, and appearance.
So let us lift our tired faces to Jesus, the one who offers perfect acceptance, perfect rest, perfect comfort. He is as besotted with us as a delighted and deliriously sleep deprived parent, showing off pictures to anyone who will look. He doesn’t care about your hang-ups, your mistakes, those last 10 lbs, before you come to Him. He only invites you to come share in the perfect love He and the Father and the Spirit have for you. He will watch over us and guide us and comfort us, as the Good Parent He is. And as babies grow in leaps and bounds over their first months, we too will grow in abundant love towards Him and others. You are the face of love to the One who made you, and you always will be.
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