Becoming a parent has made me go easier on God.Sophie, at 9.75 months, has finally sprouted into a baby who feels all the separation anxiety feels. At MOPs this week, they asked me to leave the program in order to soothe my screaming baby. Twice. Today, I handed her to the sweet ladies who run the infant room at BSF, and she made the face. The twisted, contorted, clenched-eyebrowed face of a baby who KNOWS WHAT IS HAPPENING. HER MOTHER IS LEAVING HER.I exited the drop-off zone, but I loitered. I couldn't help it. I stayed out of sight, but I needed to hear her cries soften before going to my discussion group. Thankfully, they did. Throughout the entire morning, though, I wrestled with whether or not I should be leaving my infant in childcare, so I can go cluck and chuckle with other hens for a bit. (Side note: I know so many of you working mamas go through this decision with working and daycare, I am so encouraged by you. You are doing what is best for you, for your littles, and for your families. You are good, good mamas.) Dragging Sophie to a weekly Bible study feels selfish. Every Wednesday, I have the privilege of meeting with other women in the community to discuss how God is moving and shaping lives of his people of the past and his people of the present. But, Sophie does too, in a way. She has the chance to meet and interact with other babies and other women. Women who squeeze her chunk stumps (her legs) and tickle her tootsies and delight in her (when she's not screaming so hard her face turns purple). This is how community is formed. So, I leave my baby in the tender hands of volunteer caregivers, knowing that she will feel the injustice of separation, knowing that her tears will leave waterlines on her face like the jagged rifts on the side of a mountain. Like the cracks of the Bookcliffs mountain range in Palisade (see photo above, 35mm Kodak film 8/18/18).God, too, allows us to be separate from him. It seems wrong, unfair -- cruel, even -- to create us knowing we would live in a world of disconnection and brokenness. It makes me question God's goodness. I'm sure I'm not alone in that. But, here I am, a mother who chose to conceive someone in my own image (even though she looks 100% like a mini-Joe these days), knowing this baby would someday feel the pains of separation, of shame, and of heartbreak. I created a baby girl knowing full well that she will someday get hurt -- badly -- and she will lose the people she loves. I made her knowing that someday she, too, will die.But, friends, it is better to exist than not to exist.Even on a gray October day like today, on my drive home I saw splatters of orange, yellow, red, and green against the cold blankness of the sky. There is color in this world. Color that delights us. Color that surprises us and inspires us and moves us. There is color inside us that connects us to one another and fuses us together. These colors, they are the love and joy and peace we see all around us, the leaves whirring and throwing their arms up and into the wind.I became a mama -- a creator -- because it is better for my Sophie to exist than not to exist. There were many times today that I wish I could check in on my Sophaloaf to pacify her and remind her -- like my mother reminded me -- that "mommy always comes back." I wish I could close my eyes and channel those thoughts directly to my girl like telepathic laser beams. The wonderful truth about God is he can do that. I think God loves us as much as we love our children, and he can send us telepathic laser beams (aka the Holy Spirit) so that he can be with us when cry out. We might feel separate from him, and in many ways that seems valid. But he's still with us. Like any other parent I know, God wants to ease his children's anxiety, settle us down, and remind us that he will always come back to us.

"I will not leave you as orphans; I will come to you.

Before long, the world will not see me anymore, but you will see me. Because I live, you also will live.

On that day you will realize that I am in my Father, and you are in me, and I am in you.

 ...

the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, will teach you all things and will remind you of everything I have said to you.

Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid."  - Jesus