The least of these

I shouldn't drink coffee in the evening. I don't usually. Yesterday, though, I felt so tired I thought it wouldn't even make a difference. Half past midnight and I was still awake when baby boy woke for his first night feeding. I was still awake when John got home around one. At some point I did pass out, just to re-awaken at three for the second feeding. Then at six again when John startled me awake to kiss my goodbye for the day. Then at 7:30, when I finally heard the shrill, "I sleeping to-ever!" from next door.

I got up. I pulled on some non-pj pants, threw on a sweater, tied up my hair, looked at the picture of the Blessed Mother holding Jesus and took a deep breath. The verse from Matthew popped into my head--

"Whatever you did for one of the least of these...you did for me." Matthew 25:40

So I played that line over and over in my head today. And regarding the obviously disastrous day I wrote about yesterday, I'd say it was the food my soul needed to be sustained through today. I found joy in imagining that the difficulties my children had today were the difficulties Christ may have had as an infant. How would Mary have responded Jesus? How does Jesus now regard the way I'm responding to my children. Do my children feel loved, respected, cared for? It made me constantly think of the best way to love instead of constantly doing damage control.

And though the day was similar to yesterday in the naplessness, the clutter, the whining and deliberate head-bangs and hits, there was somehow joy in it all. Not to say I did it right all the time. But there was a definite difference. And the children seemed happy going to bed. Which they did very, very early tonight.

I pray I can find that spiritual sustenance tomorrow and always. I pray it becomes the norm. Having one child taught me some selflessness. Having two is teaching me more about what self-giving love really is.