Seek Ye First

"'And I tell you, ask and you will receive;
seek and you will find;
knock and the door will be opened to you.
For everyone who asks, receives;
and the one who seeks, finds;
and to the one who knocks, the door will be opened.'"  Lk 11:9-10 

What a gorgeous son we've been blessed with.  

Seated in the cry room (which apparently doubles as a zoo, cafeteria, and playground), we struggled to hold our very wriggly, teething baby and listen as the deacon proclaimed the Gospel.  "And I tell you, ask and you will receive; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you."  I thought about what I'd asked of God so many times before, when I was young enough to still be living with my parents, years away from being married.  I'd tearfully asked Saints Elizabeth and Rita and Jude to join me in my prayers.  I wondered if it were possible to have such a deep longing in my heart if it was meant to be unsatisfied.

The deacon continued, "'. . .  For everyone who asks, receives; and the one who seeks, finds; and to the one who knocks, the door will be opened.'"  Tears pooled in my eyes ever so slightly.  Our son extended his creamy, rounded little arm into the air, pudgy fingers spread wide, and laughed an exclaimed, "HA!"  (The child has impeccable timing.)  I turned and smiled at him, and then to my husband.  There is no doubt that the Lord has answered my prayers.  

I try to remember this every time things become especially difficult, or when I get caught up in how amazingly stressful it can be simply being a mother.  Even though I haven't showered or I don't have clothes that fit or the dishes haven't been washed, yet again, by the time my husband gets home or my son has been testing his new chompers on various parts of my body.  Even when I want to cry because I'm so tired or when the baby has popped off keys from the laptop more often that I can count.  Even when I have poop on my hands or drool in my hair.  God answered my prayers.

Before naps and bedtime I nurse the baby in what's called the "side-lying position".  It's self-explanatory, really, but it involves mother and baby lying down with their tummies facing one another.  Those times are some of the very best of the day.  He looks up at me with wide eyes that look exactly like mine but in a clear shade of brown like his father's.  They sparkle, reminding me of his sunny disposition and penchant for mischief, and likewise of my husband.  It's so fascinating to see what aspects of the two of us have manifested themselves in our little one.  He kicks off his covers in the night just like me.  He's vocal and friendly and makes the same "storm cloud eyes" that I gave my mother.  While we're nursing I'll often lean forward and kiss his soft baby forehead and just inhale.  His hair has the sweet, comforting scent of baby shampoo.  Somehow he manages to simultaneously smell like cinnamon and nutmeg and a hay barn, which I love.  He's such a little boy.

Looking into his face sometimes makes me wonder if one's heart can break from loving someone so very much.  Other days, it makes me wonder if that same someone will actually break everything that we own.  

Still, I asked, and I most definitely have received.  Thank you, Lord, with all of my heart!