Today, finally, was a day fully at home with absolutely nothing to do. Most everyday for the last few months, I’ve been running around to appointments, making endless medical phone calls, running errands, or trying to complete any list of seemingly endless to-dos. Add in homeschooling, and my days have been bursting at the seems for months. But today, we were free. No school, no errands, and no appointments. And it felt weird.
So, I called a friend I haven’t talked to in a few weeks. (More like, we played phone tag until we got each other because mom life.) We spent a rather lengthy time catching up, processing life’s struggles, and laughing. In the midst of this, my friend needed to put her littlest one down for his morning nap. Normally when this has happened in the past, she’s muted me and I’ve waited patiently. I have a no-apology policy when I’m talking to my friends with children. Life happens–I’ll wait.
But today, she didn’t mute me. I was given the gift of hearing her pray with her tiny son while she put him down. She prayed rote prayers, interceded with personal intentions just for him, and then she sang a prayer.
Life has been inordinately hard lately. Like, I have moments where I really don’t think I have the strength to finish weathering these storms. It’s dark and it’s scary. All of this has me more stressed than I’ve been in a long time. My shoulders are always tight, my back hurts. My heart feels tight.
But today, as my friend prayed her son to sleep, I felt my shoulders relax. My heart let go just a little as her voice lilted through the phone. She was praying for and over her son, but I felt the prayers wrap around me as well.
I miss nap times. Not just because they meant coveted quiet moments where I could gather myself before the rest of the day. I miss the moments of cradling my little ones and singing and praying them to sleep. Those moments were deeply intimate and sacred for me. During those minutes prior to laying my tiny babies in bed, I had that child all to myself during those sleepy, gentle moments.
My friend gave me such a gift by allowing me to listen to this sacred moment. It was a blessing to hear her pray her child to sleep and ask the Lord to protect him. But, she also slowed my racing thoughts and calmed my aching heart as her prayers soothed my soul. It was a beautiful moment.
I miss those days of cradling tiny ones. I miss the weight of their bodies against my chest. I miss laying them in the crib, praying over them, and kissing their little faces. And, just for a moment today, I got to relive that–while sacred sounds soothed my soul.
What a gift.