Looking to the Skies

The sleep needs of my children are changing, so life lately has felt like one of those lemonade shake-ups I used to get at the fair. While this change is not too significant, my coveted schedule is now vulnerable. And everyone is doing fine with this transition except Mom. Too much mental thought now has to be put in predicting when the new time slot should be for grocery pickups, what are the ideal bedtimes now, and how to keep the kids from waking up before 6:00 am. Even just a small amount of change can throw me for a loop. It shows me that my concept of self is too closely tied to my schedule and circumstances. And change is good because it helps to sever that rope that I thought was my security.

I didn’t realize how deeply obstinate I was to change until we had children. I think that’s why the first year with each of our kids was a bit daunting, as every couple of weeks there was something new to adjust to. 

A couple of months ago I was wishing for warmer weather and longer wake windows for our youngest, so we would have more time in the afternoons to run errands or spend at the park. And now that it seems like we are shifting towards both of those things, part of me wants to go back to that two-nap schedule and the life we had before the mosquitoes started coming out. I like the sunshine, as long as the temperature doesn’t surpass 80 degrees, and two naps was a little more predictable. I can start kicking against the goads when things appear to be a bit stagnant and at the first sign of change. Some rhythms can take a while to set in, and transitory seasons can sometimes feel like a roller coaster, where I am not really sure which way we are headed.

When I was at an amusement park one summer as a high schooler, my friend’s seat belt lock malfunctioned while we were going up the first incline of a roller coaster. She could move the safety bar up and down. The operators of the ride waved us off as we frantically tried to get their attention. They finally stopped the ride as we reached the top of the first hill. We overheard the worker who was in charge of checking the buckles tell his coworker that it looked like my friend was trying to climb out while the ride was going. While this was not what was happening, sometimes I can feel like her. Get me off of this ride; it does not feel secure. But the Designer of my life circumstances is far different from the designer of that roller coaster and the hourly workers operating it. Our God can actually be trusted, and He doesn't misunderstand.

So recently in life, I have reminded myself to, “Look up,” like the Psalmist looking up to the hills to remind himself where his help comes from. “My help comes from the LORD, the Maker of heaven and earth (Psalm 121:2).” The Designer of the mountain ranges and celestial galaxies has not left us here to fend for ourselves, and He is intricately involved in the affairs of men. He cares about the sparrow that falls to the ground and has the hairs on my head numbered, even the ones that get pulled out by my toddler.

Looking up to the skies helps me to be thankful that the clouds move around, and what a grace it is that we do not have to stare at the same old sky each day. He adds different shades of color, streaks of lightning, and even meteor showers that can be seen without a telescope. Change can be refreshing. Today might not have gone as planned, or the past few years may have felt differently than expected. But I look up and remember that the earth is still rotating around the sun, as designed, and the moon still helps to mark the seasons. Circumstances change, yet God is constant. We can be thankful that along with the weather and seasons, He is transforming our characters as well.

Life is going to morph into various shapes like those cumulus clouds. But I have to trust that I am where I need to be to glorify God most, even if that is watching a baby monitor while catching up on dishes. We can trust that if we allow it, the plundering of our circumstances will eventually produce a character change and that peaceful fruit of righteousness. While some friends this season are bringing home newborn babies, starting new jobs, moving away, or just adapting to having school children home again for the summer, sometimes all it takes is that bit of shaking up to remind us where to put our trust.

"This spinning world by Your own hand

Hurls ever on around the sun

The seasons march at Your command

The old departs, the new year comes

And though celestial is Your gaze

You search and care for all our ways

We offer up to You this day

And all of our tomorrows"

(Sovereign Grace Music, "All of Our Tomorrows")