I baptized one of our babies at church yesterday. I must be getting better about holding babies or this one was pretty calm—she didn’t cry at all. Anyway, she let me hold her and I walked her up and down the aisle so everyone could smile and wave at her.
It’s only the beginning of the week, but I can’t imagine anything topping that moment.
There’s something good about holding a young life in your hands. She was a beautiful, powerful, fragile, transforming treasure.
Babies make us better people. They inspire us to try harder and give more. We remember that we are grown ups with responsibilities and as such, we are supposed to give care, not demand it.
For the babies, we put aside our selfish woes. They make us lighten up. As I made the tour with this child, people forgot that they were supposed to be quiet in church. Instead, they leaned forward with their smiley faces, waved, and said high pitched silly things.
We remember our own children who could be grown (heck they might be old)--but they were once our babies, and really, they still are.
I held this treasure in my arms. I felt her fingers rub the hair on my face. And I took in the restoring power of the baby.
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