Newness from pain, broken skin like virgin dirt that’s been plowed, making way for new life to grow. Two baby nubs of teeth, rough under my fingers, white gems coarse beneath soft pink gums.
Not many smiles lately, mostly tears.
And won’t it always happen this way?
Pain is easy when medicine soothes, then all is well- all is smiles and unbroken sleep and squeals of delight at such a world when they awake.
A mother’s love is fierce when such a small one feels pain. Wounds to my child pierce through to my heart and I bleed- wishing blood pooling was mine alone, not ours together. Not his, not theirs, just mine.
But one tool at a time, one salve given to me by God and I pass it along with love, and pray to give compassionately because who doesn’t hurt and need comfort sometimes?
So today I ask for grace to love, I offer medicine, dropperful of comfort, fight exasperation at piles and disorder multiplying like the ants in my kitchen, and I give it. And he’s soothed. And he fusses and I bounce him and fight exasperation but God gives comfort so I receive and I pass along.
And that’s teething. And that’s today.
And that’s grace.
And again tomorrow, more teething, more grace, more fighting, more grace, more grace, more grace.