The Faith of This Child

Last night, I couldn't sleep.  I had something on my mind, and I couldn't stop thinking about it.

Was it a ridiculous worry?  Yes, it was, and I can see that now.  But, at the time, it kept me up.  Try as I did to invite a peaceful slumber, sleep never came.  I found myself wishing that Liam would cry for me so that in my mothering of him, I'd feel some comfort myself.

And then, during the Mercy Hour (which begins at 3 AM), I heard a little boy babbling.  He was talking to someone, and he was not at all upset.  The baby banter continued.  I listened, and I smiled.

Finally, realizing that my prayer had come true, I happily got up out of bed to retrieve our sweet boy.  As I entered his room, his arms were outstretched toward me, and I scooped him up to receive one of the most tender and loving embraces I've ever felt.

In that hug, I could feel that he was comforting me, not the other way around.

"Baby, how did you know that Mommy needed you?" I asked, in the darkness.

And he lifted his head off my shoulder, turned his head around, and pointed passionately at the crucifix on the wall.  There must have been a look of surprise or doubt on my face because then he pointed harder.

"Of course," I whispered.  "Of course, Jesus told you." 

And, as I sat down to rock him back to sleep, I believed it with my entire being.