Noah is safe in his bed. He will have to wait longer for his medicine. It will push back bedtime, but he is safe. Nora is lying in the tub with vomit still on her, freezing from the lack of clothing (with little body fat, she gets cold very easily). She has the greater need in this moment. To be cleansed. To be clothed. To be tucked away safely in bed.
It seems like a duh moment. Of course, I should take care of the child that just vomited and still has her regurgitated dinner in her hair. But in that moment I wondered. I felt bad interrupting Noah's bedtime routine. Getting his medicine and administering it would only take a few minutes. It was such a helpful moment as a parent. It required a choice when both of my children had needs at the same time, when I felt pulled in two different directions. And the answer was to choose to attend to the child with the greater need.
It was a chance to interrupt the routine and serve. What a helpful reminder from Susanna tonight,
'“For even the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.”
Because in our wealthy, comfy, insulated, insured, paced, planned, leisure-time North American lives, it’s easier for us to follow Christ into arms’-length ”serving,” or “ministering,” the cherished core of our lives still preserved to us, than it is for us to follow Him into suffering and giving His life as a ransom for many.'
And you know what? Noah was totally fine while he waited and was just as smiley and giggly thirty minutes later as when I first tucked him in bed.