I am often amazed how God takes care of me. I shouldn't be. He is perfect in how he takes care of me. But every once in a while I see it more clearly than others. Like yesterday. I have been teaching Julianna's Bible class on Sunday mornings for the last two months. I wanted to teach her for the last few weeks before she turns two and moves up to the big girl class. And I love it. She started going to nursery class when she turned 6 months old. Over the last 18 months she has changed and grown so much. She sings along and answers questions and talks to her friends. It has been a real blessing spending time watching Julianna and her friends Lily and Owen learn and grow. And usually they are my only three students. But yesterday we were joined by a new friend. A new family at church brought their little one to Bible class for the first time. It's always exciting when our class grows. But this little guy didn't think it was fun at all. He cried...and cried...and screamed...and cried some more. I could distract him for a second with my bear puppet and the battery powered pig that walks and oinks and wags its tail. But nothing I did calmed him down for long. I debated on whether to buzz his mom with the nursery paging system, but I didn't know if she was one of those moms who would want to come get him or who would want him to cry it out. So halfway through class I got him out of his seat and held him. If I stood up and rocked him just right he would calm down for a few minutes at a time. I felt so bad for him being so miserable. But by the end of class, I was on the verge of a panic attack. And here's the part about how God takes care of me.
You see, I do not do well with crying babies. I can take it for a few minutes. But after that I begin to get anxious. And we know how well I do with anxiety. So after an hour of caring for a screaming baby that I didn't know, I was very close to needing a double dose of my meds. But as I sat in church with Josh on one side and Adam on the other and Jules snuggled on my lap, I couldn't help but think how well God knows me and my needs. My babies were not criers and certainly not screamers. Sure, they would cry. But they were all three easily consoled. God knew that I would have a hard time handling the crying. So he sent me these three babies. Three babies that he knew would be just right for me. Three babies who would not cause me anxiety. (Well, at least not from the crying.) And I am grateful for that. So very grateful.
Now I just hope he helps me out with the teenage stuff, too.