As a new mom, a friend of mine regularly reported sleeplessness. Sipping hot drinks while her infant alternated between fussing and sleeping, she told me how it had occurred to her one late, loud night that her baby was doing his job:
He was growing.
The sweet little guy didn’t understand what was happening as his adorable cheeks filled out and squirming legs got longer. He didn’t have any way to communicate his needs or frustrations except for fussing.
Listening to her gentle wisdom and his soft murmurs as he settled into her arms, it struck me that my growing is often done with kicking and tears too.
Growth is uncomfortable. Change, though we long for it, is jarring while it happens.
Read the rest, and some other great posts linked up, over at Recharge Wednesday.
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