I Naked

People often ask me what was the hardest thing about being a single parent to my three children, and my answer is always the same. The hardest thing was when my kids were sick ... it didn't matter if it was one, two or all three of them under the weather, it broke my heart to see my kids not feeling well. And it was even harder when they were babies and couldn't tell me what was hurting them ... I remember well how helpless I felt and how I would wish that I could take the illness and the pain for them. I remember the fear that would wrap its tentacles around my heart when my children were sick, a fear deeper than any I had ever known before. I remember their warm little bodies snuggled against my chest as I held them close and rocked them, praying that God would make them well. Yep ... without a doubt the hardest thing about being a single mom was when my precious kiddos were sick.

I haven't felt well today ... I woke up with a headache and a queasy stomach, and by early afternoon, all I wanted to do was go home and climb into my cozy bed with Julie and Ollie and sleep for a week or two. Work is more than a bit hectic right now, and I know that my physical yuckiness today is quite probably more related to stress than illness. But I also know that I couldn't wait to get home and shed my jeans, button-down collared shirt and v-neck sweater, pull on my favorite baggy sweat pants and oversized hoodie, and stretch out on my couch for a while. I made myself eat a little dinner since I hadn't eaten much at all today, and I was trying to talk myself into at least taking Ollie around the block for a quick walk when my phone rang.

Since my granddaughter C.J. was born, I have to admit that when I see Matt and Becca's name pop up on the screen of my phone, I find myself hoping that they are calling to ask if I'd like to Skype. Please don't misunderstand me ... it's not that I don't want to talk to my son and daughter-in-law, of course I want to talk to them. I love, love, love talking to all of my adult children, and there are days when I live to hear their voices on the phone. But there is something super extra special about Skyping with C.J. ... seeing her sweet face, watching her run from room to room through their house, hearing her giggle, listening to all the new words she's learning. She changes each time I see her now ... she's growing so fast, so very fast, and honestly, I don't think I could stand it if I couldn't interact with her via Skype ... I really don't think I could stand it. C.J. has been sick off and on for the last month or so with bad colds and a nasty stomach virus, so our time on Skype has been rather limited. I had emailed Matt and Becca yesterday to see how my baby girl was feeling, so when I saw it was them calling this evening, I assumed they were calling to let me know how she was. But when I clicked on the call, it wasn't my son or daughter-in-law's voice I heard but C.J. instead.

"Ghee! I naked!" she shouted into the phone. 

"Well, hi, baby girl!" I replied.

"Ghee! I naked!" she repeated.

C.J. has an incredible vocabulary to only be 21 months old (remember ... she is a genius), but as is true with most toddlers, there are times when it's difficult to understand just exactly what it is she's trying to say. So after her telling me several times that she was naked, Becca finally chimed in said, "She's telling you she's naked." I laughed and so did C.J. as I asked her if she wanted to Skype after she got her jambos on, and a few minutes later, her blue eyes, blonde hair and smiling little face appeared on the screen of my computer. It amazes me how even just a few minutes with her can wash away my troubles, soothe my aching gut and eliminate my stress. She really is medicine for my soul ... that baby girl really, really, really is medicine for my soul in a big way.

I haven't been able to get C.J.'s words tonight out of my mind ... "Ghee! I naked!" ... and I can't help but realize there's a big lesson in them for me. Most little kids love to run naked at one certain time of the day ... the time after Mom or Dad takes off their clothes to get them ready for bed. I remember all three of my kids squealing with delight as they ran as fast as their little feet would go, naked little butts and fat little tummies jiggling in their clothesless minutes of freedom ... no shame, no guilt, no fear ... just pure unmitigated joy in being innocent and real and free as little kids are supposed to be. As I've thought about C.J.'s naked proclamation, I couldn't help but think how much time I spend covering up my true self. I throw a shirt on over my anger, and I pull pants on over my guilt. I stuff my shame into the thickest socks I own, and pray there are no holes that will reveal it. I slide a sweater over my shirt to hide my tears, and I top it off with a hat to seal in my fear. I wear all those clothes because I don't want anyone to see what's underneath them ... the real me, the me no one sees except God. I work hard to keep my heart and my soul dressed, covered, hidden ... they are dressed and covered and hidden when they should be naked ... when they should be naked indeed.

"Ghee! I naked!!" Good for you, baby girl ... good for you.