God, you don’t expect him to be a man today, do you?
He’s such a tiny thing,
All curled up and sleeping there on the pillow,
his little fist tucked under his chin.
God, he’s so soft and warm and young,
helpless, a joy to comfort.
He’s learning, God.
Yesterday he held out his little hand and grasped my finger.
Today he discovered his feet and
played with them all day, here in my arms.
One day he’ll learn to hold his bottle.
One day he’ll take those first few steps,
stumbling and falling on the way.
One day, God, he’ll put his big strong arms
around his brothers and comfort them when they are broken.
God, you don’t expect me to be grown-up today, do you?
I’m just a newborn baby, young and crying.
God, hold me in your arms and let me learn
to take your mighty hand in my tiny grasp.
Take care of me.
I’m so helpless and small.
I just want to lie here
curled up in your tenderness
and rest awhile.
Teach me, God. I’m learning.
Yesterday I found out that you love me.
Yesterday I discovered a boundless heart
aching to take me in.
Today, you reached down and held me to your breast,
whispering, “My child, my little one.”
God, I can’t grow up alone.
I need your words to teach me how
to speak gently to my brothers.
I need your footprints to walk in.
I need your hands to guide me tenderly
when I dare to touch another human heart.
God, I’ll stumble and trip along the way,
but I’m coming.
And when I fall, bruised and tired and bleeding,
I need only to yield myself to your healing kisses.
Maybe one day I can help an aching, weary brother along his way
as you have helped me.
Maybe I can hold up a sister with the strong arms
you are fashioning for me.
Maybe one day, God, I’ll be grown-up for you.
But for now, God, hold me closer in your arms so filled with love,
now that you are my father
and I your newborn child.
I Peter 2:2,3: “Like newborn babies, crave pure spiritual milk, so that by it you may grow up in your salvation, now that you have tasted that the Lord is good.”