So here is today's "twin story": The boys were actually much younger than pictured here at the time of this story . . .
Daddy met the kids and me in the Meijer parking lot on his way home from work. How did he know how much we would need him that day!? With double stroller in front of us and toddler plus two upper-elementary girls behind, we stopped in the main entrance of the store to regroup, and leaned, each of us, into one side of the stroller. The twins were crying incessantly. They were warm and dry, and seemed comfortable in spite of their ear infections. Persistent crying was uncharacteristic for them -- even when they were sick. Still, it was way past dinner time, and I’d had opportunity to feed only one of the boys while waiting at the doctor’s office.
I tried propping up a bottle for Michael so he could feed himself at least a bit while we made our way to the pharmacy on the back wall. But he refused, screaming as he pushed it away. At that moment, Matthew, usually the quiet one and always happy, turned from crying to wailing. We tried to settle him down too; but issues of getting medicine, getting home to prepare dinner, and getting Michael fed all seemed more urgent; and Matthew displayed such discontent that I did not think I could help him. With three more hungry kids in tow, I felt the need to just get Michael drinking some milk so we could move along. Maybe the movement would soothe Matthew . . .
So I determined not to prop the bottle up this time, but rather to help Michael out by holding the bottle very still in his mouth . . . only to be reciprocated with the most distressing cry yet— and a harsh jerk of his head! I barely noticed the small voice behind me saying, “But you already fed Michael—at the doctor’s office.” My husband heard though—and questioned me: "Are you sure it is Michael whose turn it is to eat?" I was sure. The schedule always began with the first boy to wake up (Michael this time), and then alternated throughout the day. I had given eight feedings thus far, so it had to be Michael’s turn. I acknowledged the question and re-calculated anyway—from the first feeding in the early morning until that very moment, remembering to account for disruptions (unplanned doctor visit . . . a little lunch loss and, therefore, a repeat feeding . . .) As I counted on my fingers—back and forth from left hand to right—I visualized their precious little faces as I whispered each name: “Michael, Matthew, Michael, Matthew, Michael—no . . . Matthew again—Michael, Matthew, Michael . . .” I paused.
My husband needed only to view my horrified expression when, amid my anxious apologies to Matthew, he knew exactly what to do: one swift move of the bottle—12 inches to the north—and we had not one, but two very happy baby boys again! It was then that our entire family was greeted with applause and encouraging words from a large group of sympathetic, much humored shoppers! :-)
Oh, how this makes me think of the many ways people need each other! A seemingly simple task—feeding a baby—on this occasion, required a village: an observant sister and both parents to figure out what was really needed; three well-behaved siblings waiting patiently though they were hungry too; and a congregation of on-looking shoppers we had not even noticed -- who broke into applause and encouragement that it was all okay and understandable. "Your sons will not remember," they told me, "that you neglected to feed one of them or stuffed the other to a point of misery!" LOL! The incident brings smiles and laughter to all of us even now, twenty-seven years later.
God gave me the desire of my heart when He blessed me with twins. It never seemed a daunting task to care for six children. And the crowd of shoppers was *almost* right: it was all okay; Michael and Matthew did survive the trauma! And they would probably not have remembered what happened that day—except that the rest of us were so humored, we keep the story alive!
Still, amid smiles and chuckles, I find “Lessons in a Bottle” from that hectic day:
1. God never mixes me up with someone else. He always keeps track of me and my needs! May I never lose sight of others and their needs, no matter how busy or complex my days may be. That requires observation. And selflessness.
2. How amazing that God always listens to us! He surely does not need my input; but as a loving Father, He chooses to listen. I must become a listener who refuses to accept a false assurance that sometimes creeps in: “I already know.” I must remember that sometimes others have answers for questions I have yet to even ask! That requires honesty. And humility.
3. In His goodness, God often sends encouragement through others. I long to be that same channel for someone else, encouraging those around me, always remembering that I cannot possibly know their situations or needs. God has been working on me in that area. It requires looking at others through eyes that just plain do not know. And a caring spirit.
What lessons do you see . . . "in a bottle" or just in life itself?