It was a wise God for sure that made day and night in the first period of creation. I can't be sure, but it's possible that when he did, he had young mothers in mind.
I heard this truth last night: a parent has much more patience with their child when they are curled up sleeping in their beds. That struck me deeply. My days with the children are hard. I have four high energy and highly emotional kids. I laughed to myself when I read about a mother yesterday who has carved out time to grind wheat and make her own bread every day; right now my days are literally eaten up by just the very basics. My children are taking up 100% of my energy 24 hours a day, 7 days a week.
With so little sleep and such high demand, breaking points come easy. Patience wanes, tempers flare, exasperation leaks out. If this is a place to be honest, then there are points in the day when my frustration just boils over.
But at night time, all the trials of the day are washed away. Watching those little eyes fluttering lightly, the bodies lying across the sheets, and hair matted on their faces, my heart melts. I want to grab them up into big bear hugs. Frustration is replaced by adoring love and all the days troubles fade away into nothing.
Morning comes and brings a new day, a fresh start. Even if I've been up all night with a baby, there is something about the rising of the sun that brings the promise of peace. Those darling three year old eyes peeking through our bedroom door, or the heavy five year old footsteps clunking to the bathroom, or the lithe seven year old body stretching in bed, or the soft one year old cooing: each brings a smile to my face.
I know the day will not be perfect. I know I will be at my wit's end at some point in the next 14 hours. But I also know that at the end I will be once again blessed with the coming of the evening, the cycle from day to night and day again, and all their trying behaviour will once again be forgiven and forgotten.