Newborns

When my heart is heavy is when I feel most like blogging. Isn't that interesting. This past week I ended a Bible Study, had an unfortunate confrontation over a mis-understanding, and hurt for the people of Japan experiencing the devastation of the earthquake and tsunami. So my heart is heavy.

In the midst of all this, I have something to share, unrelated to these items. And here I will share with you, those who are interested.

I am, admittedly, a baby lover. If there is a newborn in the room, that is likely where you will find me. I enjoy holding these precious children new to life. The are so trusting, warm, needy, and tiny. It is pure joy for me to hold these babies, admire their features, absorbed their warmth, in essence, snuggle.

On a recent Sunday morning, I had the privilege of holding such a baby. He is only about a month old. Tiny and new, and perfectly formed. The sermon of the morning was on Psalm 42&43. It was a good lesson from an knowledgeable teacher about the messianic message in these Psalms. Something I had not pondered previously.

However, during the sermon, holding this newborn, my attention had opportunity to wander to the newborn in my arms. And my thoughts went something like this, my own personal lesson of the morning:

This little guy is the third child in his family. He looks so much like his siblings, that I just know he belongs in their family. His pronounced chin is a family feature. When he screws up his face to yawn or to cry I see the same expression in his siblings, even at this young age, his mannerisms are the same... so many similarities.

We shifted positions from the arm cradle to chest-to-chest, he curled right in and fell asleep, secure and trusting. I must confess, my favorite snuggle position with a newborn. The ceiling fans had been turned on so I covered his little head with his blanket to protect him from the draft. However, his arm dangled leaving his hand for me to admire. Even looking at his hand, I could see the family resemblance. I often admired his mother's long fingers and this guy has the same long fingers. I thought, "Wow! Even his hand shows to whom he belongs."

My thoughts then shifted to an analogy... do others look at just 'my hand' and think "she belongs to Christ, I can see the family resemblence?" Do others see a facial expression or mannerism and see Jesus reflected? When one looks at me do they know to whom I belong? Am I so secure in the arms of Christ, that I turn into Him, relax, trust, and let Him carry and hold me, like this little guy, who doesn't know me, was doing?

These thoughts are overwhelming and deep. My own private lesson and challenge from my teacher, Jesus.