I’ll tell you a story before my husband has a chance to, since it seems to be one of his favorites.
My hubby claims, although I have absolutely no recollection of this incident, that he once saw me stick my fingers in the edge of our son’s diaper to see if it was wet, and then pick up a sandwich and resume eating lunch.
(Yes, I hear you going, “Ewwwwwww.”)
“Did you just stick your hand in that diaper and then touch your sandwich?” Joe claims to have asked.
“Well, the diaper was dry,” he says I replied.
Thirty-some years after the fact, I can neither confirm nor deny the truth of his account. It’s hard to imagine, given my aversion to all things gross and germy, but since Joe is not typically given to fabrication or exaggeration, I suppose it could be true. Even so, I think it just proves one thing: mothers of babies should clearly be given a pass when they act weird. Sleep deprivation does scary things to us.
I feel like the early months of my sons’ lives were spent in a fog. My boys obviously began eating solid food, walking and talking, and I know I was there for it all, but I don’t remember many of the “whens” or “hows” of those milestones.
I’ve read that one torture method used to break prisoners of war is to never allow them to fully fall asleep. Every time they begin to doze off, they’re forced to wake up, over and over, night after night. Sounds a lot like motherhood.
Which is why, as I sat there in a stupor eating lunch that day and my son’s diaper needed checking, I guess things may have gone down just as my husband remembers, as disgusting as it now seems.
In my right mind, I would never have touched food if I even remotely suspected I might have baby-bottom cooties on my hands. No way. But now it’s just one of those things I never imagined I’d do, but ultimately ended up doing. My life story is sprinkled with plenty of those—some good, some less good, and some downright bad.
The deeds I most regret were usually done when I was in some kind of “fog”—whether it was the stupor of sleep deprivation, loneliness, insecurity, rebellion, or plain old stupidity.
If we always saw and thought with perfect clarity, we’d probably never do the bad or dumb things we said we’d never do. If we really comprehended the love and goodness of the God who says, “Don’t do this,” we probably wouldn’t do it. We’d recognize that the one who tempts us to foolishness and sin—Satan—is the same one whose consistent desire is to kill, rob and destroy us, as Jesus said (John 10:10). We’d always realize that sin is a serial killer who comes to our door masquerading as the Prize Patrol.
But it’s not that clear, is it?
Why? Because we live in a world shrouded by a thick fog of lies and deception. The Apostle Paul explained that on this side of eternity, we see God only as through a “glass darkly” or “mirror dimly” (1 Corinthians 13:12).
But I do know this: The more time I spend studying God’s Word and communing with Him in prayer, the clearer my vision becomes, so the easier it is to recognize and resist temptation. And the more I resist temptation, the fewer times I’ll do those things I said I’d never do.
If you’ll excuse me, I’m kind of craving a sandwich now. But, in case you’re wondering, I’ll absolutely be washing my hands first … (yes, I’m rolling my eyes).