Thursday, Tripp and I lit out and headed up to Evanston (as he noted), where I went to the seminary bookstore and purchased two icons for Sofie's room (aka the Nursery): one of the Theotokos and another of the guardian angel. Although I've been exhausted and slept past time to leave for the Divine Liturgy the previous two Sundays, the Lord (and Sofie) granted us a good night overall, and I was reasonably rested. Too, I was intent on having Sofie's icons blessed so I could get them hung up in her room.
I have felt awful these past three weeks in terms of my faith walk. I have essentially failed to maintain my prayer rule, and have basically resorted to "arrow prayers" to the Theotokos and my patron saints during those benighted and desparate-for-sleep hours between one a.m. and my (formerly) normal time for rising at five a.m. My priest has wisely told me that this is the sort of prayer rule I am to have for now: praying hymns (humming them if I know the tune) with Sofie as I burp her, diaper her, or otherwise attempt to get her to go back to sleep.
This morning, however, following on the good night we'd had, about six a. m. I was trying to soothe Sofie and it occurred to me: I have almost all of my morning prayers memorized. Why not pray them sitting here with Sofie? So I did. Now I normally stand, as the Orthodox always do, for prayers, but figured, God was not so much concerned about my sitting or standing just then. But as it turned out, Sofie got restless with me sitting, so I went to stand before the icons and continue my prayers.
There I was, Sofie in my arms, praying and making the sign of the cross. I had to make the cross with much larger gestures--since I had Sofie in my arms. And it dawned on me: I was quite literally enveloping Sofie in my prayers. This was one of those images I had, when Anna was still pregnant with Sofie, that my child and I would be up in the wee hours of the morning, praying together.
Then, on the way to worship today, I happened to turn on the local Christian radio station. Now mind you, I'm not a big fan of contemporary Christian music. Nor do I normally listen to anything on the way to Divine Liturgy: I prefer silence. But as it happened they played a worship song that I became pretty attached to a couple of years ago:
Come, now is the time to worship
Come, now is the time to give your heart
Come, just as you are to worship
Come, just as you are before your God
How reminiscent of St John Chrysostom's Paschal sermon. And today, more than anything else, I needed to drag my new-dad-weary self to the life-giving worship of the one Body of Christ.
There were no St Anthony moments for me today. Just simple, struggling to stay alert and awake, worship. The good kind. The kind when nothing seems to be happening. Yet, one takes on faith that life is being created.
Upon my return home, I soon hung the icons near the changing table--because it is the wall I most frequently face, and the nursery is just plain not architecturally suited for the eastern icon corner. Although this afternoon has been a very trying one--Sofie has been extremely restless and upset--having those icons in the nursery is a wonderful gift. Just a few moments ago, Sofie awoke. (We might be in for a difficult evening; she's still pretty upset.) So I took her into the nursery, and brought her to the icons. We venerated the Mother of God and Sofie's guardian angel. And we changed her diaper, and gave her to Anna for her feeding.
St John Chrysostom called the Christian home a little Church. These mundane domestic matters of diaper changes and calming a distressed infant take place now in the blessed presence of the holy images of the Mother of God and of the angels. Little Church, indeed.
Pray for me, a sinner. And pray for Sofie this evening and night, that she might be rested and calmed.
Posted by Clifton at September 7, 2003 09:54 AM | TrackBack