It’s after 11pm and I’m up late finishing up some work that could wait until tomorrow when I stumble across a picture of a friend’s newborn baby on Facebook. Although it was just 4 short months ago, I almost can’t remember what it felt like to hold Silas’ little 5lb 12oz body. I put down my computer and walk down the hall to the bedroom and like a crazy woman, pick up my precious sleeping son. I wrap my arms tightly around his tiny body and press his soft cheek against mine as I inhale his sweet aroma. I rock back and forth as my tired body and mind are suddenly enraptured with joy and sadness all at once. I know I need to put him down and get to bed, but every fiber of my being wants to embrace him until morning or longer… like high school. As I gently place him back in the bed he wakes and begins to whimper – a sound I’m not usually looking forward to at this time of night, but tonight it’s music to my ears. So here I am still holding my precious, awake son, the warmth of his little body seeping into my core, and I find myself fearfully aware of the passing of time. Every day that passes is one less day for moments like this one. God will you stop time for me? Just for a moment? He falls asleep and the rhythm of his breathing lulls me. Back to bed. My arms let go, but my heart holds tight.
Dear Lord, thank you for this soul stirring moment. He truly is only mine for a moment. May I never forget that.
