Beckoned In The Night

I remember the night like it was yesterday.
We had four of our five children at the time.
It was the days of early baths and bedtimes.
It was the days of leisurely time alone with my husband.

Time alone to read or watch a movie together.
Time alone to have a cup of tea.
I remember the night we heard little footsteps in the kitchen.
Our second child, a daughter, was standing next to me as I sat on the sofa with my feet up.

She began to talk.
It was as if she was speaking another language.
She made no sense whatsoever.
She looked like she was half asleep.

She’s sleepwalking, my husband said.
I had heard of people sleepwalking but never experienced it firsthand.
It was the oddest thing.
She was having an entire conversation with me in total gibberish.

I got up from where I was sitting.
I took her hand.
I led her back the way she entered the room.
I walked with her as we went back upstairs.

She was still talking in a language all her own.
She was seemingly awake but was really asleep.
I led her back to her room.
I pulled back the covers and helped her get into bed.

She settled down with her little bear under her arm.
She fell fast asleep.
I never saw anything like that, I said to my husband when I got downstairs.
How did she come down the stairs without falling? I asked him really wanting to know.

The next morning she woke up and came downstairs as usual.
She had her breakfast.
She never said anything about the night before.
I asked her if she remembered coming downstairs and me bringing her back to her room?

She had no recollection of that at all.
God protected her that night and other nights she would sleepwalk.
She never fell down the stairs.
She always had a conversation with us in a language all her own.

This season of sleepwalking was short lived.
At her checkup, the doctor said that some children go through a period of sleepwalking.
I was encouraged to keep her as safe as I possibly could.
It was always the stairs that concerned me.

Every mother knows what it feels like to get that knock on the door in the middle of the night.
Every mother knows what it is like to be beckoned while you are sleeping.
Often, it is the knock of a sick child.
Sleep is the last thing on a mother’s mind when your child is sick.

I remember the night I heard the knock at our bedroom door.
I opened it, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes.
My daughter was standing at our door making the sound of a seal.
I had never heard such a sound before.

She was my oldest child.
This was new territory for me.
God is so good.
In the recesses of my brain, I remembered reading about the barking sound of croup.

I saw her frightened little face.
I whisked her up into my arms and took her into the hall bathroom.
I closed the door and turned on the shower, making sure the water was very hot.
Within minutes, the bathroom was completely filled with steam.

I held her in my arms and we breathed together.
We took slow, deep breaths.
I stayed calm so she would be calm and her airways would not tighten.
Very soon, the sound of a barking seal was gone and she rested her head on my chest.

We had a few more episodes of croup.
One night was bitterly cold.
I wrapped her in a blanket and we stepped outside on the deck.
We stood there and breathed in the cold, crisp air together.

Breathe! Breathe! I said to her as we took deep breaths together.
Soon, the croupy sound I had grown accustomed to hearing was gone.
Mothers are resourceful by the grace of God.
We cannot possibly know all we need to know to protect our children, but He does.

I remember the night we brought the children to see the house we live in now.
My former sleepwalker came rushing downstairs after they all went up to claim their rooms.
Mom, there are hardwood floors in the upstairs hallway, my then 10 year old observed.
Whenever anyone throws up and can’t get to the bathroom on time, it won’t get on the rug!

Out of the mouths of babes!

Behold, children are a gift of the LORD, The fruit of the womb is a reward. Like arrows in the hand of a warrior, So are the children of one’s youth. How blessed is the man whose quiver is full of them; They will not be ashamed when they speak with their enemies in the gate.
(Psalm 127:3-5)

Mothers know what it is like to be beckoned in the middle of the night.
Mothers will give up sleep for the sake of her child.
A mother will intuitively turn around when she hears someone call, Mom!
God gives a mother everything she needs to care for her children.

A mother is equipped by God for the task He has given her.
She says and does more than she knows.
She will walk away astounded that she was able to handle that situation.
She did not do it on her own; she never does.

The children God gives her are a gift from His hand.
The care of those children is appointed by God.
God does not leave us alone to do the job of mothering.
He is right there with us every step of the way.

There is no way I knew what to do as a young mother.
There are not enough books in the world to give me the directions I need in every situation.
God, in His mercy, gave us His Word and His promises.
God, in His mercy, equips us and enables us to stand and persevere.

God is good.
God is able.
God is faithful.
God is tenderhearted.

God is especially close to mothers because He cares deeply for His children.

Come to the cradle, come and find peace.
Alone in the cradle, simplicity sleeps.
Behold perfect wisdom, so gentle and mild.
In the innocent, upward, trusting glance of a child.
Come hear the call of sweet sighs in the dark,
Their touch is so tender, it touches your heart.
The bustle and busyness lasts year after year;
But this little baby won’t always be here.
Come to the cradle, come and find peace.
Alone in the cradle, simplicity sleeps.
Behold perfect wisdom, so gentle and mild.
In the innocent, upward, trusting glance of a child.
When God gives a gift, He wraps it up in a child.
He made them, loves them, so wondrously wild.
And so you are chosen and called out for prayer.
So come to the cradle, He waits for you there.
Come to the cradle, come and find peace.
Alone in the cradle, simplicity sleeps.
Behold perfect wisdom, so gentle and mild.
In the innocent, upward, trusting glance of a child.

(Come To The Cradle, by Michael Card)