On Monday, I was consumed with self-pity, wanting one thing: the baby's birth. In my weakness, I gave in to anger and told the Lord that His plan was hurting me needlessly, that things would be better for me, Mark, Mika, and Coby if the baby would arrive now. When slightly more clearheaded (after Mark came home from work and I took a nap), I prayed that I wouldn't be so self-centered...and, of course, for patience.
Two days later (today), both Mika and Coby woke up and stayed in bed, lethargic with sickness. I've spent the morning caring for them, taking them to the nearby pediatric clinic, and encouraging them to eat and take medicine. Now that I sit still and let them rest, I realize the Lord answered my prayer. With my heart full of concern for them, I don't indulge in self-pity. While thinking ahead to the number of days it will take for them to recover, I am not anxious for the baby to arrive.
And...their ill little bodies crave more cuddling, which is a bonus for me. I get to enjoy a few days of lounging around, reading, hugging them, and napping with them (instead of the normal WWF referee and circus ringleader positions I usually have). The Lord's ways are not my ways; this is not what I would have chosen. Nevertheless, I'm reminded again that He is beyond comprehension, longs for the best for me, and invites me to trust Him.
