I got to hold a baby human yesterday.
Ten little fingers, ten little toes. I was the first grown-up (other than Mom, Dad and nurses) to hold him. He was only 2.5 hours old.
And he didn’t even cry.
His name is Dominic, but he was nicknamed “Raccoon” in the womb. I think it’s the best nickname ever! I hope it sticks. I can almost picture him as a young teenager (cool as can be) being summoned by his friends, “Hey, Raccoon!”
“I love your nickname!”
“Yeah. It’s cool.”
I fell in love with Raccoon yesterday. Such a miracle! I stared at his baby face and wondered about all the potential inside of him. I imagined seeds of strength and wisdom, creativity and play, humor and passion.
God did such good work in creating baby humans! And what potential in each one…
I don’t know how old you are today, but once upon a time, you were a baby human. There’s a good chance that people held you in their arms and with tears in their eyes, wondered at the miracle of your birth. They kissed your little nose and found you absolutely perfect.
And then there was your God. Even if your birth circumstances were tough, He was right there. He marveled at your form and patted himself on the back for how good you came out.
I did a fine job with that one, He thought to himself, I get better at this every year.
And inside of you were those seeds—seeds He planted himself.
Created by design to live for a purpose.
It’s inspiring, really. All that baby human potential bursting to come out…
All that hope lies inside you, you know. Seeds of strength, beauty, talent, wisdom, courage, passion, humor, creativity.
I remind myself of the same thing. And I remember that I need to keep pulling weeds to get about the business of sprouting.
Care to join me, fellow human?
For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother’s womb (Psalm 139:13).