The Horseshoe Curse of the Baby

This weekend we thought it would be fun to go to a favorite spot of ours in Arkansas called Horseshoe Canyon Ranch.  It's got great cabins, climbing, and hiking.  Very family-friendly.  We were meeting up with some friends for Easter weekend.  

I'm beginning to think Horseshoe doesn't like my child though.  Last time we were there, Davie was 4 months old.  This was the time that creepy man kept coming into our cabin and made me think he was going to stab us or steal us.  This time around Davie got her first stomach virus.  

She started throwing up in the car on the way there.  We had hoped she was just car sick though.  But no, she would throw up every few hours, and she also had diarrhea and a fever.  But the girl is a trooper.  In between her little bouts, she would smile this sad little grin.  We called the doctor early Saturday morning and got some tips.  It was still a rough day and night and another day and still is a little rough.  Steven was of course amazingly helpful and willing to do whatever needed to happen.  

I was GLUED to this child all weekend.  I could not help myself.  Even when Steven would tell me he wanted to take the next shift, or watch her while I went outside for awhile, I couldn't detach myself.  Last night I hardly slept, even when she did, I would stare through the mesh on her playpen to make sure she was alright.  I was attached to that child the moment I knew she existed.  They say fathers become fathers when the baby is here, mothers become mothers when they find out they are pregnant.  Of course, I have grown more and more attached to Davie as I learn more about her.  I cannot explain a mother's fierceness for her child.  (I'm not discriminating against fathers or anything, just speaking from my own experience.)  

This is what gives me hope in a good God - God is a mother, a father, a parent.  I believe that God wants good things so FIERCELY for his child, and perhaps like us, sometimes CANNOT make those things happen (yes I know that in Oklahoma I could get strung up for this statement) . . . but can just hold us through them, letting us puke all over his shoulders, and he still holds us tighter until we are calm.  What if he cries as he is holding us as we cry, wishing with everything in him that he could just wipe away the hurt?  What if he feels helpless?  I don't know a lot of theology.  But I would rather believe in goodness than power . . . maybe because those kinds of humans are the best ones I know.  Maybe because that's the type of mother I try to be, and want a Parent who is the same way.   

Just some thoughts today.