Our baby recently turned 9 months old, a milestone for which celebration included taking him to the doctor for his 9 month checkup. The first thing the receptionists – all of whom are very friendly and kind – exclaimed upon greeting him was just how much he has grown and changed. And indeed he has. I find our baby to be such a tangible marker of the passage of time; every day, sometimes seemingly in the blink of an eye, he is growing and changing and becoming in new ways. Our very first time in the doctor’s office, back when fall was only beginning to be in the air, was when our baby was just 4 days old. This was our first time taking him out of the house since he came home from the hospital, and even getting out the door was such an exciting a novel process that called for a picture as well as for the help of many hands. My husband and I remember being deeply in love already with our dear baby, but we also remember feeling somewhat delirious in our sleep deprived state – a deliriousness that I remember felt as though I was underwater, and as though all sensory information was being distorted through said water before it reached me, and as though in order to respond my thoughts and words floated surreally back through said water before (hopefully) reaching their intended destination in the ears of those whom were attempting to have conversations with me. Yet even then, my husband and I distinctly remember seeing a 4-month-old come in for her appointment as we were sitting in the waiting room with our tiny baby – who was tucked cozily in his infant carseat, deep asleep. As we watched how this “big” baby was able to hold her head up and look around as her father carried her against his chest, we marveled at how grown up she looked. Yet today, I am sure if we would have seen this same 4-month-old, she is the one who would have looked tiny. What a difference perspective makes!
Our doctor’s office has multiple patient rooms, but it just so happens that for his 9 month appointment we were assigned the same room we had on our baby’s very first visit. Being in this room, and at the milestone of 9 months, led us to reflect a bit on what life was like then and how much not only our baby but our whole family has changed since the first time we were in that particular room. We have such mixed emotions as we think back to that first visit; we loved our baby so much were so excited, but we were also very worried – our baby was having difficulty nursing, was losing weight, and was jaundiced. While I realize these are small problems when compared to the other innumerable health problems that can arise for babies, we felt terrified that something terrible was going to happen to our baby and I distinctly remember dissolving into tears of love and fear and uncertainty. Our little baby just seemed so vulnerable, and the weight of parenting him felt like such a large responsibility for which my husband and I were grossly unqualified. I think at this time I was just beginning to realize what it is like to love a baby so much, how exhilarating and powerful and joyful this experience is, and yet how heart-wrenching and vulnerable and uncertain. At our baby’s 9 month appointment, my husband and I were able to notice how many things have changed since our baby’s first appointment – how much he has grown in every sense of the word, how much more settled we now feel in our roles as parents, how we can hardly even imagine what life was like before he was a member of our family. Yet while many things have changed, others are still the same – how much we love our baby, how heavy the weight of loving and parenting him feels, how much we want him to be well but are terrified to realize we cannot guarantee his eternal wellness or safety.
Once we had returned back home, I began to cry while nursing our baby, and for a few moments it was as though I could hardly breathe. I was crying because of how much I love him, how dear he is to me, how unspeakably grateful I am that my husband and I get to share our lives with him, how terrified I am of anything ever happening to him. I was crying because of this weight of love. To be honest, I actually often cry when I think of just how much I love our baby and how I want him to always be with me. I believe that children are a blessing from the LORD, and that ultimately they belong to him. This means that “my” baby is not really “my” baby at all, but rather is on loan to me and my husband from the LORD, for however long or short the LORD blesses us with the incredible gift of having our baby with us. I want to hold so tightly to my baby, and yet truly I know it is far better for the LORD to be the one who is ultimately holding him. This is so painful for me, and such a daily, moment by moment struggle, as it is all too easy for me to be overcome by fear. It is so hard for me to love my baby with reckless abandon, with all of me, and to do all I can – alongside my husband – to love and parent and disciple and protect him to the very best of my finite abilities…and then, to recognize at the end of the day (or even throughout each day) the very best thing I can do while loving my baby in the aforementioned ways is to hold him loosely in hands that are open to the LORD and that trust in his sovereignty. But if this is so hard for me now, when my baby is well, how much harder will it be when the inevitable suffering and hardship that life on this earth entails comes? I am overwhelmed even thinking about this, but I have to hope and trust that God will give me the grace I need moment by moment to love faithfully in each season of life, even if I cannot imagine that now.
I wonder if considering several passages of Scripture, all of which have been impactful for me, may here be relevant:
Matthew 6:25-34 New International Version (NIV)
Do Not Worry
25 “Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothes? 26 Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? 27 Can any one of you by worrying add a single hour to your life?
28 “And why do you worry about clothes? See how the flowers of the field grow. They do not labor or spin. 29 Yet I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these. 30 If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, will he not much more clothe you—you of little faith? 31 So do not worry, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’ 32 For the pagans run after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them. 33 But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. 34 Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.
As much as I would like to think that I can add innumerable hours to my baby’s life – or the lives of anyone I love – doing so is not in my control, especially not through worrying. In contrast, this passage makes it painfully clear that I should instead be trusting in who God is and devoting myself to seeking first his kingdom. Which, in this stage of life, I imagine may at least partially look like loving my baby well in the present, that I might be a small reflection of the love that God shows his own children and that I might point my own baby toward, I dearly hope, someday trusting in Jesus for himself. For it is in Jesus alone that we can have true eternal life. I hope that someday I can truly echo Paul in believing “to live is Christ and to die is gain” (Philippians 1:21), for death for those who trust in Jesus will mean “depart[ing] and being with Christ, which is better by far” (Philippians 1:23). I still feel tearful when I think of how ultimately we all will die, be it today or in 100 years, but I hope that I will be able to grow in my faith in the unfailing hope that is in Jesus. This is so very hard though, which is why, as our family’s pastor so wisely says, we need to “daily rehearse the gospel” – including through letting other fellow believers speak into our lives, and through our own individual seeking of the LORD through prayer and reading of his Word. How I need to rehearse the gospel, for my heart is so prone to worry and fear, especially as related to those I love most dearly.
Before I close, I feel it may be helpful for me to meditate on Paul’s prayer for the Ephesians (3:14-21), which, as a side note, is actually the same passage that my husband and I prayed over our baby when he was dedicated at our church this past Mother’s Day. I love this passage for many reasons, including its expression of God’s Trinitarian nature, its description of the very real weight of love, its reminder of God’s character of love and power, its celebration of the fullness that comes through relationship with Jesus – both in this present life and eternally.
Ephesians 3:14-21 New International Version (NIV)
Prayer for the Ephesians
14 For this reason I kneel before the Father, 15 from whom every family in heaven and on earth derives its name. 16 I pray that out of his glorious riches he may strengthen you with power through his Spirit in your inner being, 17 so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith. And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, 18 may have power, together with all the Lord’s holy people, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, 19 and to know this love that surpasses knowledge—that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God.
20 Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, 21 to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen.
If my husband and I are praying that our baby will ultimately be able to trust in Jesus and have him “dwell in [his] heart through faith” (which we fervently are), we would do well to pray that God would help us both as parents to live lives that reflect to our baby what it looks like to be rooted and established in Jesus. How I need the Holy Spirit’s help as I seek to trust the LORD not only with my life, but with the lives of those I hold most dear.