I thanked God for the painkillers, carefully measured them into her tiny mouth and held her close. The night seemed so large and empty for a while. I’m so used to filling space that for a few moments I panicked, wondering what I should do (MP3, Kindle?) as I willed her body to respond to the painkillers and to relax into sleep again. Then I remembered, I could pray.
But I was too tired to think of words for Him. Too tired to think up a genuine praise. All I wanted in that moment was for the night to seem less empty and daunting. I wanted to feel God’s presence more than anything I could think of right then.
And, I’d just read an article that recommended a very Yoga-like exercise. The author had said something to the affect that one should breathe in God’s grace and to exhale your worries, fears… So I did. Breath after breath. Slow and deep. I let God fill the emptiness.
And He showed me something precious. He showed me that right there, right that moment, He was pleased with me, pleased with my love towards my daughter, pleased with my honest care of her life, and pleased that I wanted Him to fill my heart.
I rocked her so long, her little hands open and limp at her sides, her long black eyelashes resting on her flushed cheeks. Through my exhaustion and beyond my desperation, God filled up the night with His presence.
Photo by Valentina Powers
In the same way, the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us...