toddlers, tantrums & oceans of grace

I've posted before about Sunny's special bedtime song--Hillsong's "Oceans." 

I sing the chorus to her every single night, which is always welcomed because Sunny and I often exist in somewhat of a rocky sea full of unpredictable weather and all that comes along with that.

But singing "waves," as she calls it, and holding her as she holds me, both of us exhausted; has proven to be the very best way to end the day.

Many a mommy tear has been shed to the singing of "waves" while I brush the wild curls away from her soft little forehead.

Typically, when she has bad days, WE have bad days. And those days are seemingly full of time-outs and temper tantrums and power struggles and regrets and lost patience and just, well, the terrible two's toddler type of turmoil.

But then at the end of the day, I hold her tired little body, warm and sweet smelling from her bath, in my arms and I rock and sing:

"I will call upon your name, 

keep my eyes above the waves, 

when oceans rise my soul will rest in your embrace, 

for I am yours and you are mine..."

over and over and over.

And then I lay her sleeping body in her bed, cover her up, give her a kiss and creep out of the room,

with my eyes above the waves.

It's not just a verse to the chorus of a song, it's a plea:

keep my eyes above the waves...

I'm not telling Jesus "hey, I got this."

I am asking, begging Him, to KEEP my eyes above the waves.

Maybe today you feel like you are sinking.

Like you can't tread in the thrashing waves any longer.

You feel forgotten and beaten down and hopeless.

Maybe it's a stressful work situation, maybe it's finances, maybe it's a broken relationship, maybe it's motherhood, maybe it's your health or the health of a loved one that you feel is pulling you under.

Whatever waves you feel are enveloping you,

Look up. 

He is there, keeping you afloat.

We can't see Him.

Sometimes we can feel Him and other times we can't--and when we can't, we feel alone and scared.

But He is there, IN those waves with us, and if we stop panicking and listen we can hear Him whispering:

"do not be afraid--I am here with you."

It's in those places; in those dark and quiet bedrooms and nurseries where we rock our sleeping children back and forth, back and forth, on the waves of that churning sea with exhausted tears of love of the most unconditional kind rolling down our cheeks, that we find rest. 

The tide may toss and turn, but we rock and sing and cry to that unforced rhythm of grace and lift our eyes up, up, up over the waves that we were MADE to rise above.

You are strong, you are brave, and you are LOVED.