We stayed at my parents' house last night to spend some time with my brother and his family, who were in town for the week. After everyone was settled in bed, Lydia suddenly started to cry. No, wait, she started to scream. Knowing my brother's family was in the room next to ours, I swooped her up quickly and tried frantically to calm her down. After lots of useless shushing, I rushed downstairs to the dark family room and settled in the glider. Liddy put her thumb in her mouth and nestled her head under my chin, and drifted back to sleep.
She finally fell asleep and we sat there in the dark together. I could feel myself beginning to doze, so I gently stood up and swiftly moved to the love seat and laid down, with Lydia on my chest. We stayed there the remainder of the night, and when I felt myself beginning to fall asleep again, I shifted her next to me, in the crook of my arm.
I woke up to a blinding flash of light coming through the window next to us, followed by a huge clap of thunder. It shook the house, but Lydia stayed asleep next to me. I pulled her closely to me as the storm continued to rage outside. I then remembered that it was the early, early morning hours of Good Friday, and my heart began to ache at the thought of the storm that raged when Christ, my Savior, was crucified.
As I snuggled with my baby girl, safe and warm in my arms, and looked out the window at the storm, I thought of the unspeakable suffering and horrific torment He bore ... for me. And for the precious little one next to me. I felt tears hot on my cheeks, overwhelmed with guilt for my sin, and overwhelmed with the love I know He feels for me, despite it.
How God the Father gave His own little one, for me.
And the subsequent storm ... His heart breaking.
I rubbed Lydia's little head until I fell asleep again, my mind still thinking towards the cross and what He did for me on this day.
Happy Good Friday, friends. May you think of His sacrifice today, and every day.
Thank you for the questions--I look forward to answering them.