One night I was feeding Lego at 3:00 a.m. or some other unholy hour. He’d finished eating on one side and fallen asleep (as he often does). Being a practical but mean mother, I knew that he needed to eat on the other side or else he’d probably be up again before I wanted him to be up again. He also needed a diaper change. I killed two birds with one stone—I woke him up by changing his diaper.

Of course he screamed bloody murder. At first it was at the shock of being woken up by a cold, wet wipe on his butt. Then it was because he remembered how hungry he still was. Then it was anger because I was obviously hearing his hunger cries but stubbornly continued to change his diaper instead of feeding him.

The whole thing took a minute or two, and then I fed him and all was well. But as I was nursing (remember, this was now about 3:30 a.m.), I thought about how we are like the baby crying for what seems to us an eternity while God seems deaf to our cries. Why won’t He just feed us NOW?

But, as a mother, I knew the whole perspective, and Lego didn’t. I knew that that diaper would give him diaper rash if I didn’t get it off him soon. I also knew that he was still hungry, even if he was so sleepy he didn’t know it himself.

And it made me think about how many times Jon Boy and I prayed for a job, and how many times I wondered if God was listening, or if we were doing something to make us unworthy of the answer to prayer.

Now I wonder if, looking back, I’ve learned to see things by God’s perspective or if, like Lego, I’m just glad to finally get what I’ve been asking for.

Also, I wonder if there was a grand plan, a reason Jon Boy had to be unemployed for six months. Are we better people because of it? Did something happen that couldn’t have if he hadn’t been? Did it strengthen our marriage or our testimonies?

Honestly, I don’t know. Maybe.

I do know, though, that as I sat there that night thinking of how silly and short-sighted Lego was to scream about having his diaper changed, I found myself feeling less alone and frustrated than I have in a while.


  1. I only wish I were absorbing these lessons before Baby 4 came along. There’s a line from the Berenstain bear’s theme song I always apply to my little ones: “They’re a lot like people, only moreso.”

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