We broke our girls of their wubbanub addiction earlier this year. If you’re entirely confused by that entire sentence… go ahead and take a look at the picture above and you’ll see two of the CUTEST most addicting items my children have ever owned hanging from their mouths. Pacis + Stuffed Animals = MAGIC. #wubaddits
These beauties saved us in the early days, but we failed to break them of their habit early on and we kept putting it off… and off… BECAUSE BLESS IT, we shoved them in their mouths and they'd stop crying. Why would ANYONE in their right mind get rid of these miracle workers?! Alas, finally at the ripe age of two and three quarters… we had the girls throw them in the trash.
It was a hard moment for us all.
When the twins weren’t looking I rummaged through our garbage and saved those precious wubs. Ben looked at me like a crazy person (and snapped pics of my irrational crazy tears) as I stashed the goods in a secret hiding place so the girls couldn’t find them. I kept saying something irrational like, “I BIRTHED THESE TINY BABIES AND NOW THEY DON’T EVEN NEED WABBANUBS ANYMORE?! WHAT IS THE WORLD COMING TO?!” And he just looked at me like I was supposed to be a rational adult or something.
When it comes to babies growing up… No. I refuse.
Anyways, this past week… 8 months later, we are still fighting the paci battle. You see, we took the wubs away, but three nights into SCREAMING we caved and gave the girls back regular pacis. No wubs… but a “big girl” paci at bedtime. And ever since then we’ve been trying to wean them off of them, unsuccessfully.
Last week, one rainy morning, the girls were both losing their minds from staying inside and one of the twins started crying… and crying… and crying. I was trying to decipher what was the cause of such a scene. Was it something legit like a flesh wound… or was it just because sister looked at her weird? You never really can tell at this age…
So I kept saying, “Sweetheart, just tell me what’s wrong. Are you hurt? Are you sad? What’s wrong? Use your words baby.”
And she wouldn’t respond.
Tears ran down her face and finally, after 10 minutes of just sitting with her I finally heard through the sobs, “I saaaaad. I want my purple papi!”
Yall, It was 9:30 in the morning. We’ve been up for hours. We’ve not had our “papis” during the day for MONTHS. I was shocked, but I tried to reason with her. I used logic. I used bribes. I left her alone. I held her. We facetimed daddy. We did it all… but for an entire 90 minutes, my girl cried about that dang purple papi.
And as I sat there, listening to her genuinely mourn my no to her paci, I was reminded about how God hears our cries and cares. Lately I’ve been pleading with the Lord about something. I’ve been going all persistent widow on Him… not giving up until He finally hears and answers my cry. I've whined and screamed and cried and begged and bargained... I’ve been downright obnoxious.
But as I sat there, watching my girl, I got a glimpse of myself and of God, and afterwards I ran to my room to jot down things to help me see and remember how good our God is. Here’s what I wrote down:
- God isn’t saying no or not right now because He doesn’t care.
- God’s reasons for “no” or “not yet” are beyond my comprehension, but the reality is He knows best. His reasoning and viewpoint far exceed my own.
- God isn’t afraid of letting me cry it out. Unlike me, His perfect parental love is strong enough to handle all our tears and cries. And although He is compassionate, He is not manipulated.
- God’s no is sometimes better than His yes, even if it doesn’t feel that way.
- God is a God who never abandons us in our sadness.
- God isn’t surprised by our outbursts, after all we’re His children and He knows every hair on our head and every flaw we possess.
- God’s goodness is never contingent on our own.
After an hour and a half of crying, my child still wasn’t satisfied with my no, but she had moved on. She played with the other things in her life that her dad and I have said YES to. She was happy, genuinely happy. Is the papi still a sore subject? Yes, I’m pretty sure if I had mentioned it, tears would have welled back up in her eyes at the sting of remembering. But she learned to be content with the “not yet.”
And that's where I'm trying to be today. Does His "not yet" hurt? Yes, but His love for me rings infinitely truer. Today may we all learn to be content with the “No’s” or “Not yet’s” that we receive. May we find hope and comfort that the author of our “no’s” is the author of our “Yes’s,” and that He is a good, good Father who loves us fiercely.
Ps. To all of those who are currently dealing with a No/Not Yet... This season sucks for you and for that I'm sincerely sorry. Know that this wasn't written with an attitude of "You SHOULD JUST DO THIS!" but rather a confession of my current circumstances. I wait WITH you on your YES and I cry with you on your NOS. Know that you're oh so loved.