I have a daughter.
Sometimes it still doesn't feel real. Sometimes I still feel only 15 years old.
But I'm 25. And I'm married. And I have a daughter.
She's almost 4 months old... already.
She is typically a pretty happy baby. Only fussy now and then, usually when she's craving to be held close. But this past week, sometimes even that doesn't soothe her. So I try everything. And then eventually - either because I found the perfect angle to hold her, or because she exhausted herself crying - she settles down. And at this moment, when the overwhelming feeling of stress and helplessness subsides, a thought hits me:
She won't be like this forever.
She's going to grow up. First, into a little girl. And someday, into a young woman.
She is a person. With thoughts, and feelings, and dreams... and a spirit thought-up and breathed into being by God Himself.
Don't miss a single moment.
Drink this one in deeply. Remember her like this right now so that you can remember it forever.
So as I'm lying next to her, while she's still nursing, ever-so-sweetly... calmly... peacefully; as she begins to fall into a deep sleep; as she rubs her hands together the way she does when she's tired... I drink in the moment.
I brush my fingers over her tiny, little head covered with her fine, thin hair... down to her delicate ears, and across her plump, rosy cheeks.
She is so little.
She won't be like this forever.
I will remember this moment.
On our sides, belly-to-belly on our bed. Snow falling quietly outside the window next to us. One of our cats snuggling and purring on the pillow above our heads.
She is beautiful. She is perfect.
And then the Lord - as I'm soaking her in while realizing more and more that she is growing up fast already - shares a secret with me about who she is going to be.
"A preacher", He said. "A preacher of the Word and of the Spirit. You think she has a lot to say now? Just wait and see her then! She will be so convinced of the knowledge of who I Am that her life will effortlessly be a walking, never-ending sermon. Her spirit will be so free, and she will never stop sharing the Love of God."
And then the thought hits me even harder:
She won't be like this forever. Don't miss a single moment.
Pour into the moments like this one. Teach her with moments like this that when she cries, someone will hear her and answer her. Someone will tend to her physical and emotional needs. Someone will comfort her with their presence and their embrace and their love.
And then relish in the moment of calm, knowing that you have just taught her how to trust. And that you have been given the privilege and honor of being the one responsible for teaching her those things... to be the first earthly example of the Love of God. You are making valuable investments with each and every one of these moments. You are investing in her future.
This is parenthood.
This is who God is.
Isn't it just absolutely beautiful?