Changing our craving

Nursing is on my mind today. I am trying hard to dry up my milk while still nursing Caleb 2-4 times per day. The theory is that this will allow him to become frustrated with nursing and quit of his own volition, rather than being denied something he revels in. I am hoping it is less traumatic for him this way; however, if my milk isn't significantly diminished in the next few days of herbal remedies, I will have to stop nursing him altogether to ensure that my milk has a chance to dry up before my scan dose of the I-131 less than 2 weeks from now.

Nursing is a theme that is surprisingly common in God's word. I find this process of early weaning so illustrative of the larger spiritual truths that are being revealed to me through my battle with cancer. New Christians are compared to babes, and told "like newborn babies, crave pure spiritual milk, so that by it you may grow up in your salvation" (I Peter 2:2). Yet, as we grow as Christians and become more mature, we are "weaned" from that process of feeding on the "milk" of Scripture...the basic tenets of the faith. We wrestle with the big problems of humanity, and ultimately must choose whether to trust God to sort out the unaswerable questions or to let our own doubt and worry limit or weaken our faith in Him. David describes the process of handing anxiety over the future over to the God He continually trusted more each day: "I do not concern myself with great matters or things too wonderful for me. I have stilled and quieted my soul; like a weaned child with its mother, like a weaned child is my soul within me." (Psalm 131:1b-2) Caleb, comforted at my breast for 8 months, finds it almost a sole source of love, affection, sustenance, and joy in certain circumstances; he hasn't yet learned to trust me or his world enough to feel safe in a world that doesn't include his mother's milk and skin-to-skin contact. In many ways, this correlates with my faith pre-cancer: I felt like I had a lot of answers; I could provide an answer to so many questions, at least theoretically. Weaning is putting Caleb's faith to the test: will Mama still love me? How will I eat? How will I fall to sleep? Cancer is doing the same for my faith: does God still love me? Will I live? How will I rest or find joy in the midst of physical and emotional calamity?

I long for a "quiet and still" child at the end of this weaning process...a child that can lay at my breast without tears or struggles, and find comfort in my songs, my cuddles, my conversation. I long to be like a weaned child snuggled up to God's chest...I don't want to "fight cancer", as the world would have me do. I want to "still and quiet my soul", so that I lay peacefully against the heart of my Savior, completely trusting He careth for me! (I Peter 5:7)

Oh Lord, you've searched me,
You know my way,
Even when I fail you,
I know You love me.

Your holy presence
Surrounding me,
In every season,
I know You love me

You go before me,
You shield my way,
Your hand upholds me
I know You love me

~ Hillsong, At the Cross