Comfort in the Steadfastness of His Word

Just finished reading the book of Isaiah this morning.

Last night, when Nathaniel woke up only two hours after his last feeding—3:30 a.m.—I was determined not to feed him. I put up with an hour and a half of his crying before feeding him. The pacifier failed me. So did singing him a lullaby (although it had worked the night before). He was resolute in wanting to suck to sleep. My sister was right: the older he is, the stronger his will is. At least at three months, I had a chance of distracting him with some other activity, offering him an alternative.

Lying in bed, tired and exasperated by Nathaniel’s persistent crying, I find it easy to become skeptical about whether this is the way to go. It would be much more simple if I just fed him when he wanted (not need, want—there is a reason why he’s over 15 lbs at four months). If my job was simply to gratify his immediate demands so as to keep him happy all the time (as in, not crying), I wouldn’t have to be tormented by his howling discomfort. But I am relying and trusting the advice of my mom, my sister, and my close friends who are also new mothers: Nathaniel needs to learn to fall asleep on his own.

So as I was lying in bed in the early hours of the morning, I thought about the connection between what I have been reading in Isaiah and what I am experiencing. How God is unchangeable, always faithful, true to his promises. That amidst the darkness and chaos of sin, we can anchor our hope in his divine promises.

“For as the rain and the snow come down from heaven and do not return there but water the earth, making it bring forth and sprout, giving seed to the sower and bread to the eater, so shall my word be that goes out form my mouth; it shall not return to me empty, and it shall accomplish that which I purpose and shall succeed in the thing for which I sent it.” Isaiah 55:10-11

And as such, we can walk in obedience to God’s Word, even when we are facing challenges, temptations, self-doubt, and wonderment about whether we are going in the right way. Even when it is inconvenient or uncomfortable for us to do so. God’s Word provides magnificent assurance of what direction we are to head toward, what steps we are to take.

If it were not for some of the baby care books that I am reading or the advice of family and friends, I would, without hesitation, give in to Nathaniel’s demands (I’m pretty sure I will on the days when I can’t bear to hear his crying). One of the baby care books actually places emphasis on the necessity of teaching/disciplining a baby to fall asleep on his own: “If [the baby] isn’t able to fall asleep by himself by six months of age, the window of opportunity for learning this skill may not be open again for several months. After six months, he is likely to begin a normal phase known as separation anxiety, in which a mighty howl may erupt when you are out of his sight, especially at bedtime. As a result, if after six months he’s still used to being nursed, held, and rocked through several rounds of ‘Hey Diddle Diddle’ until he’s sound asleep, you can plan on repeating this ritual for months on end unless you are prepared to endure a vigorous and prolonged protest.” (Focus on the Family: The First Two Years, page 119-120)

Not that their words are anywhere close to the authority of God’s Word—but because of their expertise, their years of experience, their wisdom as mothers—their words do mean something, and as a result, their words give me the much needed strength and motivation to press on, though I lack the experience to discern and understand what lays ahead.

When I finish feeding Nathaniel on the rocking chair, and I look down to see a peaceful, sleeping baby resting on my lap, I can’t help but sigh and tell myself, Okay, get up. You have to put him in his crib, even if he wakes up and doesn’t go back to sleep, even if he has to cry himself to sleep. He can’t sleep on your lap forever. Oh—how much more simple it would be if I could just let him sleep on my lap, so he would get his much needed rest for the day.

I get the feeling that this is a snapshot of what disciplining a child will be like. It will require firmness, consistency, and love—coupled with a vision of Nathaniel’s future—that this is good for him, even if it is hard for me.

Lee and I pray every day for Nathaniel’s wellbeing. That God grant us wisdom and strength to raise him right. Oh how much we need his guidance.

Must stop blogging now. Nathaniel has been crying in his crib for the past forty minutes (as I am finishing this blog, he has just gone from crying to whimpering to silence... better go check on him...)