The Rocking Chair: My Place of Worship

No matter how many counseling or child psychology classes I took for my degree, the rocking chair is where I realize that I don't know a thing.

The rocking chair is where my theology gets tested.

The rocking chair is where weak, frail beings join together in tears before a God who wants them to be healed and whole.

You see, the rocking chair is where I head when I've been injured physically one too many times in a row by an angry toddler who wants to play with his own fecal material during a diaper change and who is furious because I won't let him have that one little bit of control.

The rocking chair is where we head at night, when an awoken toddler wails out of fear because the faces and voices and language and smells just aren't "right."

The rocking chair is where we spend time fostering attachment and care for each other.

The rocking chair has seen many hours of use this month.

And I'm learning some very humbling things about myself as a woman.

I realized a few days ago that instead of being dependent on God, I was being dependent on my son.

My attitudes were reflections of how our day went.

If Million napped.

If he acted out.

And then my devotional thought from yesterday during our time of "rest" was that instead of worrying about whether I'm attaching or Million's attaching or whether I'm mentally scarring him for life, I should concern myself with if I'm reflecting Christ and glorifying Him.  

The rocking chair is my prayer closet.  Where I lay my worries about employment and potential relocation at God's feet.  Where I confess my "bad-itudes."  Where I lean on my Savior whose grace is sufficient.  Where I pour out my heart for my sisters and brothers and their concerns.  Where I daydream along with God about the man Million will become, and pray about his future.  Where I thank God for my blessings.

The rocking chair isn't usually a convenient place to be.  I can't get much "done" there.  But God works, silently, gently pruning my heart.  Just like I prune the new growth off of my lemon tree so that the new branches won't sap the strength from the fruit that is being produced, God prunes new and exciting things from my life to stabilize and strengthen what is already in my heart and soul.  May there be much fruit from this time in my quiet place of worship.