Grace under Fire

When thy blessings come I begin to idolize them,
and set my affection on some beloved object—
children, friends, wealth, honour;
Cleanse this spiritual adultery and give me chastity;
close my heart to all but thee.
Sin is my greatest curse;
Let thy victory be apparent to my consciousness,
and displayed in my life.
Help me to be always devoted, confident, obedient,
resigned, childlike in my trust of thee,
to love thee with soul, body, mind, strength,
to love my fellow-man as I love myself,
to be saved from unregenerate temper,
hard thoughts, slanderous words, meanness,
unkind manners,
to master my tongue and keep the door
of my lips.
Fill me with grace daily,
that my life be a fountain of sweet water.

Excerpt from “A Cry for Deliverance,” from The Valley of Vision

It has been six days since our daughter Jenuine’s birth, and I am already beginning to see God’s graces. From what I remember, Nathaniel was much more difficult to care for. He cried more often, demanded more milk, slept less. During this second pregnancy, I spent more time worrying about the stresses of taking care of a newborn than reflecting and anticipating Jenuine’s arrival. In retrospect, I should have spent more time recalling all the wonderful moments I had with Nathaniel, rather than dwelling on my fears.

There are the obvious things to be thankful for. Only six days old, last night, Jenuine slept a four-hour stretch, a feat that I did not have with Nathaniel until he was much older. So far, she is eating well. The labour, too, was much more smooth, and the aftermath much less painful than my first.

Then there are the not so obvious things. I vividly recall how vulnerable I was to frustration and anger following Nathaniel’s birth. I started to realize that Sleep in itself is a grace of God. The fact that life has it so that you are to rest at the end of the day is a blessing. I realized how much I took Sleep for granted until I had to tend to a newborn at all odd hours of the night. During the day, I became deeply susceptible to sin. Every temptation was there. To be ungrateful. To complain. To feel anger when circumstances did not turn out as I wanted them to. To displace my impatience on my husband.

This time around, I was wary of my falling prey to the sins that I had so easily fallen into two years ago. Days before Jenuine’s birth, I even apologized to Lee in advance for whatever emotional outbursts would manifest upon our daughter’s birth.

The first several days unfolded just as I had foreseen. Shortly after our elation of welcoming Jenuine into the family, my exhaustion and pain were overwhelming. Lee, too, was sleep-deprived. In the morning, when both children were up at an unwanted hour in the morning, neither of us wanted to get up to tend to them. Nathaniel was crying because I couldn’t rise up from bed to greet him in the morning like I used to, and Lee was lying in bed, most likely too fatigued to cheer him up. The anger and frustration in me rose to the surface and I directed such feelings toward my husband: I’m the one who had to breastfeed the newborn all night—why are you tired?

When wakefulness came to us at certain points of the day, Lee and I enjoyed our family time. But from time to time, Lee and I probably got on each other’s nerves. I thought to myself: it’s so easy to be husband and wife when our energy tanks are full, but how do we fare under conditions such as these?

Daily I pray for God’s grace. That He cover the multitude of sins that come up in this household. That He sanctify us. Deliver us from sin after sin after sin. That our family glories in more than just welcoming a new member to the family—but that, behind the scenes, with the countless sins that our flesh is naturally prone to, we be delivered from them—and therein lies the greater glory—overcoming those little hindrances that often go unseen, the ones bubbling just underneath the surface of our seemingly composed dispositions.

I thank God that He has given Lee and me enough grace to learn from our mistakes. That though we do not always express our regrets in words, we express them through the subtle gestures, small acts of consciousness of and sensitivity to the other person’s needs. It takes God’s grace because carrying out such acts requires a putting to death of our own selves, our own selfishness, our own self-centredness. Rather than being consumed by what each of us personally need or rightfully “deserve,” we try to put ourselves in the other person’s shoes, and respond accordingly.

You can say that, with God’s power and strength, we can even surmount the ill effects of sleeplessness and pain.

I’ve been reading prayers from The Valley of Vision. They are perfect for the worn out mother—they are short but possess the much needed depth to lift up and inspire the spirit. I will close with another excerpt from the book, which is entitled “Need of Grace”:

Thou makest me possess the sins of my youth,
and the dreadful sin of my nature,
so that I feel all sin,
I cannot think or act but every motion is sin.
Return again with showers of converting grace
to a poor gospel-abusing sinner.
Help my soul to breathe after holiness,
after a constant devotedness to thee,
after growth in grace more abundantly every day.
O Lord, I am lost in the pursuit of this blessedness,
And am ready to sink because I fall short of my desire;
Help me to hold out a little longer,
until the happy hour of deliverance comes,
for I cannot lift my soul to thee
if thou of thy goodness bring me not nigh.
Help me to be diffident, watchful, tender,
lest I offend my blessed Friend
in thought and behaviour;
I confide in thee and lean upon thee,
and need thee at all times to assist and lead me.
O that all my distresses and apprehensions
might prove but Christ’s school
to make me fit for greater service
by teaching me the great lesson of humility.