Prayer – The Oaxacaborn Blog

Aveline reading on the couch - photo via Oaxacaborn dot com

Sometimes, it looks like this.

(Sometimes. Not today.)

It has sounded more like this, today: “Don’t put your head in the toilet.” “Why are you putting that piece of sandwich between your toes?” “Hey! Don’t eat my makeup!” “I am not a trampoline.” “Good job helping! Yay! Thank you! Wait! Was that a red dress? We’re washing whites!”

But those are just the things I’ve said.

I don’t want to drown in the sound of my own voice.

I’ve got to remember the things she’s saying, too.

I’ve got to remember the joyful shouts of “Mummy!!” whenever I reappear. The MO MOW! (more milk) and MO SEE-WOH! (more cereal) breakfast chorus. The “Oh, wow!” marvel at everything from a cookie to a piece of lint. The giggling “Ready? GO!” shrieks followed by hugs-from-a-running-start. The “Help. Stuck!” announcement that’s she has woken up from her nap. The bouts of uncontrollable laughter. Even the endlessly dramatic “Oh, no!”, which drives me crazy sometimes.

Because, even though every day doesn’t look like that photo, every day won’t always sound like this, either.

So on days like this, I ask God to let me see the miracle in the midst of the noise. And you know what? Every time I remember to stop and ask him to see with new eyes, He always, always answers.

“You have put gladness in my heart.” -Psalm 4:7a

it’s been an odd year. i think back to last december, when we nearly had to move out of the house into which we’d only just moved. that was stressful. but we’re still here, wild with the hope.

and so much has happened since then.

praying every single day for a full-time job for my husband. quitting my own job just a couple of weeks before finding out i was expecting. it has been a wild ride. i’d like to say that i’ve learned a lot, but really, it’s more accurate to say, i have so much yet to learn.

like learning to trust. learning to know that God will take care of me tomorrow, just as he’s taken care of me today. learning what it means to pray for “our daily bread.” not our weekly bread, or our bread for the entire upcoming year; but rather, our daily bread.

that takes a lot more faith. wouldn’t it be nice to see it all stacked up, in neat little piles of 30 and 31, all marked out by month? but it’s not like that. it’s manna in the morning, and it melts away with the sun. and yet He promises the sun will rise again tomorrow. arise, shine, for your light has come.(isaiah 60:1) the sun of righteousness will rise with healing in its wings. (malachi 4:2) and with that healing, rising, sun, comes another layer of sweet, sweet manna.

if only i could learn that his mercies are new every morning. if only i could learn that his mercies never fail. if only i could learn that the sun will always rise. if only i could learn that he always hears our prayer for daily bread, and He does not give a scorpion or a snake. if only i could learn this, it might save me some tears during the darkness of night.