2:30 ~ 3 am ~ I clutched a pillow over my head to shut out Scout’s crying
3 ~ 3:30 am ~ she was quiet
3:30 ~ 4 am ~ While she cried I mentally listed synonyms for cry. I came up with wail, weep, whimper, whine, moan, sob, scream, screech, sniffle, bay, bark, groan, howl.
4 ~ 4:30 am ~ We went outside. We had a snack. We snuggled in the recliner. While she dozed in my lap I started on the adjectives; hysterical, loud, persistent, annoying, exhausted, afraid, sad, lonely.
4:30 ~ 6 am ~ I gorge on the sleep of the innocent.
6 am ~ She’s crying. The day begins.
Scout is a baby animal of a species born into litters meant to live in packs. By design she should sleep in a warm pile of puppies, not alone in a cage. My old sweatshirt is a sorry substitute for brothers and sisters. Extraction was my idea which makes me her litter and her comfort, the consolation for her loneliness.
To be alone without being lonely comes no easier for most humans. Wishing and wanting others to pay us more attention, we hold them responsible, make it their fault we are lonely. Resentment takes root. Bitterness breeds. We retreat further into a crate of self-pity and sadness all the while failing to notice the door isn’t locked. It isn’t even closed.
Comforting ourselves, taking comfort in God is learned. We train ourselves to it through intention and practice. Trusting the promise of his presence, we learn to be satisfied with the communion God offers; communion that is constant and quiet, received and accepted.
The morning is far gone. She knows I’m nearby so Scout doesn’t need to cry, only come get in my lap every so often. Right now she’s under the coffee table wrestling yesterday’s Herald Times into submission. But I don’t dare take even the tiniest nap lest she find my knitting again. Vigilance is my only sure defense.
I pray this gorgeous day you know yourself wrapped completely in God’s loving presence. peace and prayers, pastor annette