From the editor

My spiritual director suggested I read one Psalm a day, or as regularly as possible. I have read many of the Psalms at some point or another in my life, but a number of the phrases have taken on a fresh meaning as I enter a new chapter of my life. My husband and I are eagerly expecting our first child (a girl) on July 5—just a month away from the time I am writing this …

My husband and I are eagerly expecting our first child (a girl) on July 5—just a month away from the time I am writing this.

My spiritual director suggested I read one Psalm a day, or as regularly as possible. I have read many of the Psalms at some point or another in my life, but a number of the phrases have taken on a fresh meaning as I enter a new chapter of my life.

I found that a lot of Psalms can apply to pregnancy, childbirth and parenting but in new ways for me. I thought of the Psalms when I heard some advice from a friend who is a new mother: “Try to let go of distinguishing day and night.”

I take this to mean to care for the baby whenever and sleep whenever—regardless of what the rest of the world is doing or whether or not the sun is out.

Psalms that relate include: “I lie down and sleep; I wake again for the Lord sustains me” (3:5), “Yours is the day, yours also is the night” (75:16) and, “You keep my eyelids from closing” (77:4).

Another verse reminds me of the connection between God’s love and a parent’s love—biological or otherwise: “Yet it was you who took me from the womb; you kept me safe on my mother’s breast” (Psalm 22:9).

Father Eddie at the Franciscan church we attended while living in Whiteriver, Ariz., often relayed a similar message in his homilies. If you are feeling unworthy of God’s love, just remember how much you love your children or grandchildren, he would say. God loves you far more than that.

Furthermore, in one episode of the PBS show “Call the Midwife,” a character grieving a loss says, “I didn’t realize how much my mum loved me till I was a mum. It’s the kind of love that only goes one way—forward.”

While I am looking forward to experiencing this new kind of love, I am anxious as my due date approaches. As people tell me—and I readily admit—my life will never be the same.

In this transition time, it will be important to remember that caring for an infant is a spiritual act. My spiritual director said that many young parents came to her when she was a pastor to express guilt that they didn’t have time alone to spend meditating and praying.

She attempted to ease their guilt by telling them, “Caring for a baby can be a spiritual discipline and even prayerful. We don’t need to separate baby care from God.”

That includes the rhythm of changing diapers and breastfeeding. When children are older, it can mean sharing night prayers or dinner conversations about Scripture.

In the June issue of Sojourners, editor-in-chief Jim Wallis’ main advice on how to further the common good was, “If you are a father or mother, make your children the most important priority in your life and build your other communities around them. If you are not a parent, look for children who could benefit from your investment in their lives.”

I have mistakenly viewed parenting from the outside as an inward-looking time when parents’ worlds dramatically narrow, and the energy they have for nonparenting tasks slips away. Wallis’ advice provides a new challenging take on this.

To make a difference in the world, we must start by embracing the unconditional love we have for our children, spouses, friends and communities. The Psalms can guide us in this journey.