#450 - Courageous Kindness; Day 5 of 5Scriptures: Exodus 34:5-7, 1 Kings 17:8-16, 2 Corinthians 9:7-8
When my son Elias was born, my joy doubled—and so did my overwhelm. Early mornings blurred into long afternoons that stretched into sleepless nights. Having babies nineteen months apart was never the plan. I cried constantly out of both gratitude and exhaustion.
I felt so alone. I ached to see God. To know He hadn’t abandoned me in the land of spit-up and Cheerios. Consumed by life with a newborn and a tiny toddler, I wondered if I could still make a difference beyond my four walls.
The answer came in a way I had never expected—through breast milk.
My baby nursed around the clock, yet my breasts were engorged. I pumped extra milk to bring physical relief and with the hope that Elias would learn to take a bottle.
Day after day, week after week, he refused the bottle and my body refused to stop producing excess milk. I read books that said to simply stop pumping and eventually the supply would decrease. While this was sound advice, I felt compelled to keep pumping. My firstborn had taken a bottle like a champ, and an ample supply of frozen breast milk gave me the flexibility for an occasional night out. I was holding on to hope that my efforts to store up extra milk would pay off.
One morning I was out walking with a friend whose daughter had been born just a couple of weeks after Elias. We pushed our strollers side by side, panting up the steep tree-lined street and exchanging motherhood stories. As we neared the top of the hill, my friend shared that she was having trouble feeding her baby. Not just that the baby wouldn’t latch correctly, but that she wasn’t producing enough milk, and every formula they tried upset her daughter’s tummy.
“I’m trying to increase my production by pumping, but after thirty minutes I barely have half an ounce to show for it,” she said, frustration and heartache in every syllable.
The picture of my freezer overflowing with bags of breast milk flashed in my mind. At first, I felt guilty. Then I had an idea. My heart pounded in my chest—less because of the strain of pushing a double stroller and more because I was nervous. Questions swirled in my mind. What if I offend her? What if it gets awkward? What if I regret it?
Finally, I said, “Hey . . . I don’t know how you would feel about this, but I have a freezer full of breast milk, and Elias won’t take a bottle. If you want the milk, it’s yours.”
“Really?” she replied.
Later that night my friend arrived with an ice chest. Together we filled it with liquid gold, barely holding back tears. From a place of lack, God brought abundance. We both stood in awe, undone by His kindness.
How Will Ilana Glazer Help You Find The Funny When Everything Sucks In The World (and da clerb)?
