Gazing into the eyes of my babies was a source of peace for me. I know, I know, I am overlooking the part about exhaustion, and laundry, and sleep deprivation. But the experience of seeing them seeing me was one I loved. There were times it felt as if he or she could gaze for a long time without blinking. 

 

Late in my fifth pregnancy I remember waking up with a start. I sat upright with a horrible thought. 

 

"I forgot to be pregnant!" In that instant it seemed that the process of creating life within me was dependent on my vigilance, and if I was forgetful even for a second the baby would disappear. 

 

My more rational mind kicked in, and I realized that such logic was absurd. Laughing at myself, I looked down at my stretched belly and sighed. I waited for the miraculous feeling of fluttering life beneath my skin. It came. 

 

Many years ago my little boy asked a curious question. 

 

"Could you tell the Lord to not look at me for a minute?" I smiled, as I tried to figure out what he was up to. It turned out he had a plan that involved shady circumstances, at least as nefarious as a three year old could devise, and he didn't want to disappoint God. 

 

It turns out that God doesn't blink. Can't in fact. He sees us every moment, and yet that constant awareness does not seem to result in disappointment. He who has enough material to condemn each one of us, doesn't. 

 

I kept track of nine children for two decades. I knew where they were, at least for the first few years, every hour of every day. I kept track of their meals, and clothes, and somehow managed to protect them from the relentless onslaught of dangers endemic to life on this planet. When I watch young mothers chasing toddlers at the playground the enormity of that task flattens me. 

 

I no longer know where most of my kids are. Last month someone asked where in Spain and France my twins were studying. I didn't know. But that doesn't seem to matter. Certainly I have no clue where the oldest five are. I call them and hopefully they pick up. But it is not my responsibility to keep them safe. 

 

It is different with God. We never outgrow our childhood, in that we no longer depend on His care. Every moment of every moment. He never blinks.