As I walk up the steps holding him, covering his cold cheek with a hundred kisses. We ring the doorbell and wait, then I whisper into his ear, “How much does Mommy love you?” and he whispers, “sooo much.” And I try to get in as many more kisses as possible before the babysitter opens the door. The door opens and quickly I squeeze in one more quiet “I love you” before we see her.
It’s one of those “I never thought I could ever have so much love for a person” moments. So much love, so much hope, so much. I get in the car and head to work and as I pull out onto 64, I think about the horrible meltdown the night before. Mommy had to clean out his nose and he hates it, it’s torturous but when she finishes he turns and puts his head on my shoulder and sobs and clings to the mean Mommy who put him through such agony. But then he realizes he can breathe better now and he smiles as if to thank me and runs off to play tractors.
I’m passing the mall exit now, 20 minutes left until I get to the office..great I’m 15 minutes late again. And it hits me. Is that what it’s like for God? He has so much love for me he can’t contain it? He whispers to me reminding me He loves me? In fact, I think he’s whispering now. “Yes. It is.” And when life is uncomfortable and it hurts and I don’t understand why “He would allow this,” I still turn to Him and ask Him to comfort me. And then I realize I needed that. And it brings peace.
That was yesterday.
This morning, Riggs is in his hevy duty coat and wrapped in a thick blanket. It’s so cold. “I wanna see Missa” “We’re here, baby” Once again as I walk up the steps, I whisper “How much does Mommy love you?” “NO!!!” “NO!! Mommy!” He wants nothing to do with me. 2 year olds. When we get inside. He starts taking off his coat. Runs to “Missa” looks up to her with open arms, “I wanna watch the color movie, Mama.” WHAT DID HE JUST SAY??! Sucker punch right in the gut. I walk out the door. I feel it rising in my throat. Push it down. Not going to cry. I hear my mother, “oh just wait, Virginia. Wait until the day he doesn’t want to go home with you when you pick him up from daycare. I’ll never forget the days when you cried your eyes out because you didn’t want to leave Miss Sandra.” See it’s normal. It’s a phase. He will be all about you when you pick him up this afternoon. I hope. He doesn’t really think she’s his mommy? Does he? No.
Pulling out of her driveway, I remember my epiphany yesterday. Whoa. That’s. What. A “jealous God.” Means. He’s jealous when we turn to other things to find happiness. It hurts. He knows it doesn’t work. He knows we’ll eventually regret it and miss Him. And I smile. How much does He love me? Soooo much.
Leaving the station in a few minutes. Praying for more whispers and hugs.