Boundaries

Victor did not have a good night's sleep last night (all keyed up from Daddy's message at the Wed Connection picnic...). So we've been trying to make the naps count today.

The late afternoon nap is always the most challenging. So we started early. Took a nice leisurely walk with Daddy. Lay on the floor and played with the fuzzy Winnie-the-Pooh rattle (one of our most favorite calming pre-nap activities). Sang "Great Is Thy Faithfulness" (like always).

I laid him down in his crib and sat in the chair next to him (which sometimes helps him relax quicker). And, per his recent modus operandi, he flipped onto his tummy and made for the top of the crib. He is a remarkably efficient wriggler, and it was only a minute before he grabbed two rails in his little fists and gazed longingly at the outside world, like a convict hoping for a jailbreak.

It only took another minute for the crying to start... and the little pickle wrangled around and conked his noggin on the edge for a while before finally dropping off.

Boundaries. We know they are good. The reason there are rails on Victor's crib is so he won't do a swan dive and smash that cute noggin on the ground. And there's plenty of room for him to roll around and (notably) sleep in the middle. Yet he persists in knocking his head against the wall.

Why?

He gets it from his momma.

I have been feeling the same resistance to boundaries. Maybe it's the heat and lack of sleep. Or maybe just my wicked, rebellious heart. But it's been a crabby day, pushing back on Ben's suggestions, fighting disrespect in my responses, and feeling generally contrary.

I love my husband. I see him earnestly seeking the Lord. I know that it is good for me to enjoy the privilege of following his lead and not fighting to get my own way. But I still ram my head against the wall too many times, and have to repent and ask the Lord to give me a gentle and quiet spirit.

I know that Victor will learn to sleep in his crib. And I pray that God will help me show him what a good gift boundaries are for us in the rest of life too.

The lines have fallen to me in pleasant places; indeed, my heritage is beautiful to me. Psalm 16:6