Monday, March 29, 2010

Who Moved My Mom?

Growing up I slept in a double bed and I slept right in the middle. I loved stretching out and finding the cool spots for my feet. When we married over sixteen years ago, for the first time I had to share a bed. Now I possess a "side" of the bed. After the honeymoon, when we returned home, my new hubby insisted I take the side farthest from the door, so he could protect me if an intruder broke into our home. My hero! This continued when we bought our first house, requiring a move to the opposite side of the bed because of the position of the door.

You know how the song goes: First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes...switching sides of the bed once again so I could be closer to the hungry little hippos all through the night. Unfortunately my protector can sleep through nearly anything, so for the past 12 years (the entire time my kids have been alive), I've slept closest to the door. When they tremble from a nightmare--they know where to find me. In the middle of the night when they stand over me in the dark and whisper "I think I'm gonna puke", they know they will get immediate results. And when they were smaller and wet the bed, they knew all they had to do was make a stop at Mom's bedside and I'd aid in the clean up.

That was until recently. You see, my husband, who can find his way out of any Walmart regardless if he can see the door and who always seems to know which way is south, can't seem to find his way around our bedroom in the dark. When the puppy wouldn't stay out of Jewel's bed at night and I gated her in the room with me--he fell over the gate. When we put up a small Christmas tree in the room, he knocked it over. And I can't count the times he has stubbed his toe on the bed or ran into the closet door. So a few weeks ago when we put the new treadmill in the space beside his side of the bed, I knew better than to even go there. "I think we should switch sides of the bed. The kids don't need me in the middle of the night anymore. And you could literally jump from the doorway to the bed if you wanted to--no detours, no booby-traps on the way."

So with the only ceremony being the exchange of pillows, we switched sides of the bed. Only problem--we didn't warn the kids. So when they crept in to ask if school was delayed, they got no response from the side of the bed where always before they experienced immediate results. "Mom? Mom! Where are you?"

This taught me once again to be thankful for a God who never moves. When I tremble from fright in the middle of the night, I know where to find him. When I am sick and tired or just sick of being tired, all I need to do is whisper for him and he immediately flies into action. And when I need help with a mess--even one of my own making--he waits patiently until I ask for his help then comes to my aid. He never switches sides of the bed and, unlike this tired woman, he never sleeps.

Sometimes we feel like God abandons us. Sometimes we wonder if he nods off to sleep. But he is always waiting, watching, and willing to come to our rescue. But we must humble ourselves enough to ask. We must become like little children and admit that we need help. We must bow the will of our heart and confess we don't have it all under control; we don't have all the answers. God never moves--but sometimes we do. Sometimes we forget where we left him. Sometimes we refuse to admit that he is right down the hall. And he is waiting to be our hero.

Psalm 121:3-5 (New International Version)

He will not let your foot slip—
he who watches over you will not slumber;
indeed, he who watches over Israel
will neither slumber nor sleep.
The LORD watches over you—
the LORD is your shade at your right hand;

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