Baby’s Burp Rag

Baby’s Burp Rag

I tossed the burp-rag across the room towards the rocking glider. My nightly custom included this toss from baby bed to the chair where I fed my infant daughter. The burp-rag would be at the ready for any spit-up from my infant daughter.

Only this night, I missed; the rag plopped on the floor just beyond the chair. Basketball skills were never my strength, and somehow I missed a chair only ten or so feet away from the baby bed. And this night, worn out as I was from the first few months of my daughter’s life, I inwardly groaned at the thought of having to bend over to pick up the rag.

My daughter was an easy baby, except that she still awoke to feed once each night. That wasn’t so hard, and neither was parenting our three-year-old son at the same time, or even being a full-time stay-at-home mom for the first time. The difficult part in these first few months after my daughter’s birth was that my recurrent insomnia had kicked in with a vengeance.

Nursing my daughter, chasing my son and not sleeping all sapped my strength. I shot a quick prayer heavenward, confident that God would give me the energy I needed to put both kids to bed, even with the interruption of a rag on the floor. Time and again, prayer for strength to make it through another day had been answered ‘Yes’ by God. With my daughter now dressed for bed, I picked her up and turned to the chair, ready for the final feeding of the day.

The rag was balanced on the top of the chair.

Double-take, triple-take. Shivers down my spine.

I saw the rag hit the floor. My son was already in bed, my husband was working on a house project in our garage. No one else was in the house. Only now, the rag was in a place where it could not possibly be.

I’m not sure why God did this, other than to show me that He was there, He was walking beside me, He knew how very tired I was. Sometimes I think He likes to do little things like this just to let me know He’s there, and that He truly cares about all the little details in my life.