Silence. Rest. Rhythm. I crave and need these things, but always seem to be running from them. It boggles my mind how, sometimes, the very thing that sustains us, also repels us.

The moment quite fills the room, the need to snuff it out with noise arises and I find myself scrolling facebook videos or scrolling Netflix for yet another TV series to binge watch.

When I was younger, I filled my day with distractions so I never had to deal with the depression and the pain that I felt. The moment there was quiet, there were intense and painful feelings, and I desperately wanted to avoid them. I guess over the years, the noise has become a habit…my comfort zone. But I’m finding myself, more and more, drawn to just being present. Challenged to set aside the distractions that I’ve created, and fill myself with more than a barrage of shows, music and activities. To stop. To listen intently and pay attention to the thoughts and feelings that I’m experiencing.

I’ve been thinking a lot on spiritual disciplines and practices. The things that help us practice relationship with God, and not just go through the motions of what we think it means to be a Christ follower.

The theme of leaving behind the frantic and pursuing peace has repeated itself over and over, and when something repeats itself, I pay attention.

Psalm 46:10 says, “Be still and know that I am God.” It starts with “Be still.” It begins with “Be.”

So I’m learning to just “be”. Learning that the quiet ushers in peace and a chance to hear my Fathers voice more clearly. God has so many things to say, but He doesn’t always speak with earthquakes or fire. Sometimes, it’s in the whisper of the wind, and we have to be quiet enough to hear it.

As I sit here, my 10 day old daughter lays on my chest. My eyes hidden from my keyboard, blocked by her tiny little body. She loves to be held. Loves to be wrapped tight and held onto.

This past week and half has been more overwhelming than I could have ever imagined. I’m still sifting through the changes, brought on by the birth of a tiny human being that is mine to nourish and nurture.

Nothing can prepare you for these weeks. And I’m sure they look different for everyone. But for me, it has been a storm of change and processing.

Beginning at the hospital, our tumultuous start didn’t set my feet on solid ground. Our tiny babe being whisked away to NICU and away from our watch set both of us up for difficult days.

So we hit the reset button when we came home. We sat together, and breathed together. We learned to build a wall around us so we could just BE and figure this new family thing out.

I’ve been so blessed to have family here to cook and clean and protect us from all the things that are not healing and recovering and bonding and resting. All of these things are needed so much, and there should be no pressure to let them go before you’re ready. Heal. Recover. Bond. Rest. Do nothing else and do not feel shame or guilt. Feel like you’re doing what’s best for your family. Because, you ARE.

Being a new Mom is not easy or simple. It is complicated and hard all wrapped up in confusion and worry and fear.

This gift, I have prayed for. But even good gifts come with difficulty in receiving them. I have cried more tears than I care to admit, feeling waves of overwhelming emotions between the sleepless nights. I look at our daughter and feel swept away in love and engulfed in fear and worry at the same time.

It is beautifully brutal, this parenting thing. It requires a complete and utter loss of self. You have to give into it completely or feel torn apart. So I am learning to lean into the waves, and let them wash over me.

I will not drown.

“²³ Then he got into the boat and his disciples followed him. ²⁴ Suddenly a furious storm came up on the lake, so that the waves swept over the boat. But Jesus was sleeping. ²⁵ The disciples went and woke him, saying, “Lord, save us! We’re going to drown!

²⁶ He replied, “You of little faith, why are you so afraid?” Then he got up and rebuked the winds and the waves, and it was completely calm.” Matthew 8:23-26