A Baby's Cry

"Babies cry to stretch their lungs, and parents pray to stretch their patience." — Unknown

I vividly recall when my wife was about to give birth to our first child. We lived in Maryland with no immediate family nearby, but we had incredible friends from our church. Because we didn't know the gender, we painted one room blue and another pink just to cover our bases.

We did everything by the book: prenatal checkups, Lamaze, a packed "Dad bag." After a grueling 32 hours of labor, we welcomed a beautiful 8-pound, 14-ounce baby girl. Looking at her, my wife whispered, "She has hair!" My immediate response, after witnessing what my wife had just endured, was: "You had better be worth it."

As new parents, we were terrified of everything. Because she was born in February, my wife wrapped her up like baby Jesus in swaddling clothes — so many blankets that every time I tried to buckle her into the car seat, I heard a shallow cry. We froze, surely something was wrong with the seat, or worse, the baby!

Something was wrong, but it was with us. I was poking her with the buckle because I couldn't find the insert through all the layers of fabric☺. We were simply trying to be great parents. 

Eventually, we made it home safely. First mission accomplished.

She was fed and changed. Second mission accomplished.

We felt like absolute pros.

And then, the inevitable happened: sometime later, she started crying.

We'd exhausted everything we knew. She was fed, clean, fever-free — and still crying. This time the panic hit differently, because there was nothing left to fix. As parents, we felt it was our job to stop the tears, to make sure her life was nothing but roses. It hadn't occurred to us yet that a life with no tears in it isn't actually the goal — for her or for us.

Unfortunately, many of us carry that exact same mindset into our faith. When we become Christians, we want God not only to forgive our sins but to shield us entirely from the hardships of life. We want a testimony of continual bliss rather than one of struggle, endurance, and growth through pain. Scripture tells a different story:

Growth isn't a side effect God tolerates — it's the point. Paul goes further and says the trouble itself becomes the training ground:

So, what did we do when she cried and we'd already done all a parent could do? We trusted the simple words of my mother: "Babies cry. Eventually, they'll fall asleep or soothe themselves. The worst thing you can do is jump every single time they cry."

How does that apply to us? We learn to soothe ourselves in the comfort of knowing God has us — not by demanding He remove every trial, but by trusting Him inside of it and knowing that He will bring us out in His divine time.

"Don't worry about anything; instead, pray about everything. Tell God what you need, and thank him for all he has done. Then you will experience God's peace, which exceeds anything we can understand. His peace will guard your hearts and minds as you live in Christ Jesus." (Philippians 4:6–7, NLT)

It took some time, but eventually she would cry herself to sleep or even more beautiful, we would hear her start cooing as she examined the beauty and complexity of her new world. She knew, even as an infant that her parents were close by even if she couldn’t see us. This is why the scripture says that his name shall be called Immanuel, God with us. (Matt 1:23)

EM