It was midday and we were all still in our jammies. Or maybe that was just me. In any case, it was a rare Saturday. The three of us, my shaggy haired husband Tim, my 20 month old whirlwind son Titus, and my 35 week pregnant self were inside, with no plans but to do the normal everyday things that I had not been able to do during a week of the flu. Laundry, Dishes. Cooking. Weeding. Actually, those were Tim's plans. Icing on top of his PhD studying cake.
I was on bed rest.
On Friday morning, my doctor told me to lay as low as possible.
So we canceled all the things and Tim did all the other things.
I struggled on and off throughout these two days feeling like I was a useless human being, as one does in the third trimester. Or is that just me? My to-do listy, "do-er", Martha is my home girl, cleaning schedule, planner marking, calendar worshipping self?
And so the mind games continued.
But then there were moments like this one.
Tim decided to make us some (more) coffee. Titus overheard the conversation and ran to the coffee cart, fascinated. He squealed with delight as the grinder pulverized the beans, running around, clapping, and pointing. When the grinder halted, he looked at me with wide eyes and went "OHHH!"
Tim finished the ritual, pouring water, scooping grounds, pressing "Brew."
But instead of moving on, like I am so prone to do, my husband pushed a chair right up to the coffee pot, pulled Titus on his lap, and sat with him to watch the coffee pot brew.
Titus was mesmerized. Absolutely mesmerized.
My ever moving toddler actually sat still for five whole minutes to watch the coffee drip to the standard Vincent dosage: the "6" line.
I came in at some point, laughed with Tim, joked about Titus being so captivated, joked about him being my son, loving coffee, teach 'em young, all that jazz.
*Disclaimer: we do not actually let him drink any. Although he loves to pretend with our mugs on the cart!*
I haven't been able to forget the image of my little boy, on his father's lap, watching in pure wonder.
You could insert something here about childhood unplugged or Titus' developmental stage. Or maybe about him being like his daddy, always wondering how things work, ascribing him to the field of engineering like I often do already though he is not yet two years old.
Yet, it is not Titus that so astounds me in this snapshot memory, but Tim.
You see, my husband had about a million and one things to do this weekend. He was carrying the weight of our entire life, so that I could simply carry Matthias.
When the opportunity came to sit with his son to watch the coffee brew, he didn't think twice. He saw things from Titus' perspective. He became small and childlike, encouraged Titus' wonder and curiosity. He stopped, invited our son onto his lap, and just watched. All responsibilities aside, Tim picked up the most important part of our world and snapped priorities into place in that five minutes of drip brew fascination.
Yes, from Titus' perspective, Tim runs the world. Without Tim, Titus would not exist in the first place. Without Tim working so hard, Titus would not have the life he has now. But without moments like this, Titus would not have the mind and heart he does.
This is not just a brag sesh on my husband, although it is that. He is the best husband in the entire universe.
It is also a reminder to me what God is doing to my own soul. He is teaching me that doing all the things is not the same as watching God do all the things.
In the few recent weeks of asking for and receiving help, in letting go of commitments, chores, and lists, in letting the fridge be filled by others, in letting others care for my toddler., in laying down to nap when my son naps...
God has invited me to watch him brew the coffee.
But not without pulling me onto His lap first.
He gets on my level. Although He runs the universe, He invites me just to be with Him, to show me His glory in this very minuscule part of His world I inhabit.
And while the coffee brews, I hear him whisper, "Jillian, I run this world, not you. I don't need you. I want you to step back and watch me work. While you sit on my lap, while you watch, I'm growing something within you that I will use someday. But right now, I just need you to let it grow."
Physically, God is actually growing a human being in me! WOAH! AMAZING!
Spiritually, it is something entirely different. It's a seed, or perhaps a coffee bean, of wonder and peace. God could take me home at any time, because He is going to do what He needs to do to make this world right again, with or without me. And for the time being, it is a privilege to be used by Him in whatever way He thinks is best.
And this weekend, it was mostly on the couch, watching my toddler discover the beauty of a simple, homemade, Cuisinart cup of black coffee.
On his Daddy's lap.