The Old Rocking Chair

August 14, 2023

“Mommy, I need you to come rock me,” my oldest called over the baby monitor on my dresser.

In my quietest voice, I whispered, “I’m coming.”

Groggily, I looked at my phone to see what time it was. 3:15 am. Lifting the cozy covers up, I swung my feet onto the carpet floor before giving my mind time to groan about getting out of bed.

After ascending the stairs, I quickly and quietly opened the children’s door and shut it behind me before waking anyone else. By the light of the nightlight, I could see my daughter’s shape sitting up in her bed, and I helped her down and over to the rocking chair corner.

Without words, we settled into our routine positions in the creaky, Victorian-era rocking chair. Wrapping the cream crocheted blanket around my daughter, I asked her what was wrong. She said, “A bad dream,” and then proceeded to tell me the bizarre plot of a child’s dream. Assuring her that the dream was not real, I began the motherly duet of rubbing her back with my left hand and gently pressing my feet on the wooden floor to maintain a gentle rocking.

Creeeak. Click. Creeeak. Click. The springs in the belly of the rocking chair, no longer smooth in their effect, caught after each dip in a rock and moaned with the upswing. Although minutely noisy, this creaking and clicking melody has become a theme in the music of my children’s lives, a comfort to them in times of distress.

This old rocking chair has become a symbol of my love and care as a mother, and it has become a place of comfort and security for my children. The cares and distresses of the day are past, even the times spent in correction and discipline. The time in this rocking chair is for closeness and communion. It is a time for reassuring touch that silently conveys, “You are mine, and I love you.”

My children know the nightly rocking chair routine and have come to expect its reassuring comfort. In fact, no bed time routine is complete without it. Cuddling in the rocking chair has become such a part of our family dynamic that the children cry without this quiet fellowship with mommy (and sometimes daddy).

To those who may question the wisdom of cuddling each night, I gently share a thought or two. We as humans long to be loved. We long to be assured and reassured of love. We need communion. We need gentle touch.

I want my children to start their lives living loved because someday I want them to grasp the great love that God has for them. God is not cold. God loves His children with an everlasting love that is so vast and deep it is incomprehensible. God is not standoffish. He invites us to come and commune with Him. God longs to comfort us and cuddle us as a loving parent to his child.

My children have different personalities, but no matter the personality, this time of fellowship in the old rocking chair is important to each one. Some children, with affectionate natures, snuggle more naturally while some independent personalities resist a lot of touching. Yet, no matter the differences, even the wiggly personalities cherish the time with mommy.

The amount of time we spend rocking in the chair changes. Sometimes we linger. Sometimes Mommy gives a “super-fast rock”, and I tell the children it will just be a 30 second rock tonight. The children laugh and say, “Mommy, was that really 30 seconds?” Sometimes I am so weary in my body and heart and need to step away from the children, yet even those 30 second rocks convey my love to my children.

My grandmother gave me the rocking chair before the birth of my first child. I’m honestly not sure where it came from, but my guess is it was made in the early 1900s. The floral upholstery and dark tone didn’t match the light, farmhouse style of my home, so I painted and reupholstered the chair. The project was intense, one that took longer than expected, but I treasure this chair. Sitting down in it with my children is a joy, and I love its new look.

This chair isn’t a fine piece of furniture, and in fact, it has a crack in one of the crossmembers under the seat. Yet, for now, this chair serves my family. The value of the chair is not in its numeric dollar value, but its value comes from providing a place for my children and me to spend time together.

My children don’t think about or care how much money the rocking chair is worth; all that is important to them is that we spend time together in that rocking chair. If I sold that chair today, I might make $50 (probably stretching it), but my children would be heartbroken because they love snuggling with mommy.

I am comforted to know that what my children want most is a relationship with me. Sometimes my heart tightens when I think of what other families provide for their children in contrast with our simple lives. We don’t have a huge house. We don’t have tons of toys. We don’t go on fancy beach vacations 3 times a year. Yet, my children are loved and I believe they know that they are loved. Daily, my husband and I pour ourselves into our children, and I look forward in faith to reaping our harvest of love.

Ultimately, the old rocking chair is a symbol of relationship. It represents time spent together with my children. It represents tender compassion in times of sickness and fears. It represents the life-giving love of a mother to her children.

I know this post may speak most poignantly to the heart of a mother, but all of us were children at one point. And if you are a child of God, you are still in a position of care and nurturing from your Father. No matter what your childhood may have been like, if you are a child of God, you have a Father who loves you unconditionally and longs to draw you into His arms and sit and rock a spell.

God longs to fellowship with us, but we have to learn to be still enough to climb into His lap and listen to His words of comfort.

-Ashley

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