Faithful in the Little Things

For the past two nights, Sophia has had problems sleeping.  She comes into our room five, six, seven times, crying, anxious, desperate.  The first night, I coached her through what she could do - read, listen to music, pray, get a drink.  Nothing worked.  So then I gave her some Benadryl.  Next I sat on the edge of her bed, stroking her hair until I was sure she was asleep.  But ten minutes later, there she was again, crying next to my bed.  Finally I just told her to sleep in my bed and I would go sleep in the basement.

The second night, I was firm.  "Don't come in here again - there is nothing more I can do for you."  She came in anyways.  Three times.  Finally I told her I would pray for her and then if she came in again there would be a consequence.   As I lay in bed awake, annoyed that my sleep had been interrupted, I pondered what was making me so upset. Was I truly concerned for her, or was I only worried about myself and my sleep?  Was I making it all about me? Am I not even able to sacrifice a few hours of sleep to help my daughter through this? 

As a typical firstborn, I knew this was bigger than not being able to sleep.  She felt out of control because she tried to fall asleep, and couldn't.  It made her feel anxious.  She worried about it the whole next day.  She worked herself up so much before bedtime that she gave herself a stomachache.  I knew a dose of Benadryl was a band-aid over a bigger issue, and I knew this was something I needed to care about.

I have had a lot of noble thoughts lately about my purpose in life.  I've read some incredibly challenging books and blogs that have seriously made me reconsider my life, the American Dream, and what my priorities are.

First was Shane Claiborne's Irresistible Revolution - a man who moved into the inner city to minister to the homeless.

Next it was Jen Hatmaker's Interrupted and Seven - detailing how God came in and interrupted her comfortable American life and radically changed everything about it.

I just finished Kisses from Katie about a young girl named Katie Davis, who gave up college, friends, boyfriend, and family to live in Uganda, adopt 14 orphans, and begin a ministry to care for children in one of the poorest parts of Africa.

Yesterday we sang Arms Open Wide in church and I meant every word that I sang:
 My whole life is Yours
I give it all
Surrendered to Your Name
And forever I will pray
Have Your way

And just hours later I am stewing about missing a few hours of sleep.

Katie Davis spends her days caring for fourteen children, hanging out with some of the poorest people in the world, helping those infected with tuberculosis, HIV, and malaria.  I can't imagine she gets a whole lot of sleep with that many children in her house.

Oh God, I talk a big talk, but I don't know if I can walk the walk.  I want to live a life of surrender to you - in everything - but you are reminding me that it starts with the little things.  It begins with ministering to my own daughter at 2 am instead of getting mad and feeling entitled to my sleep.  It starts with laundry and taking care of a friend's children and bringing a meal to someone who just lost a child.  It's listening and giving and playing and encouraging until I'm spent.  It means giving up my "rights" and finding joy in the middle of sacrifice, because "for the joy set before you, you endured the Cross." Hebrews 12:2

"Whoever can be trusted with very little can also be trusted with much..." Luke 16:10