My Prayer for Baby
Today Joseph, my baby, had a massive, call-for-back-up, toss the clothes, straight to the tub, hold your breath kind of blow-out. TMI? Sorry. Its just impossible to write my first ever Tiny Tell blog on babies + not mention the catastrophe that was this morning.
Before Joseph was born — before the poop, the cries, the smiles, the drool (oh for the love of drool (!!!)) — he was in my belly. For nine months he was there - cooking, kicking, squirming. I couldn't see him, his receding hairline, his tiny fist or long feet. For nine months, I couldn't watch his chest go up + down to make sure he was breathing, couldn't monitor his weight gain + development, couldn't ensure that all that was meant to happen in the womb would do so correctly. And it scared me. It was all so out of my control.
So I prayed. A lot. And I clung to the prayers of others on behalf of my baby boy. That he would have ten fingers and ten toes, that his brain would grow and form, that his heart would be bent toward Jesus, that he would grow up to be patient + kind. And I get all emotional thinking of that moment. The moment they said "Look up — your baby boy!" and they placed his tiny body on my chest. And I cried. And thanked God for sustaining his life when I had no control.
And then we loaded him in his carseat to leave the hospital + were paranoid of every bump we hit in the road, every noise he made as he slept, and then there were the uncountable number of times waking in the night to make sure he was still breathing.
But you know what let me sleep at night? Praying. Praying that just as The Lord graciously sustained him in my womb, that he would sustain him now. Praying. The same thing I was taught to do as a child — when you're afraid and can't sleep — pray. Praying. The same thing my mom does as I hug her goodbye + get in my car to drive back home. Praying.
It's such a beautiful privilege, prayer. To be able to boldly go before the Lord with our heart, our desires, our worries, our fears, our anxieties and be able to trust him. Our father. To feel — as we pray — our hearts begin to soften + our grip start to loosen as we learn to trust Him. Trust him not because of what he may or may not give us but because we have learned him to be a good good Father. And since he is good and he is our Father we can ask him for all things + trust him with whatever outcome he deems fit.
I made this tell, "My Prayer for Baby" to be used at baby showers, as tags for baby presents or to be used by a mother to document her prayers for her baby. I made them so that she can hold on to them and watch as the Lord, in his grace, answers according to his plan.
I recently used these at a dear friend's baby shower. Everyone was given multiple tells + were asked to write a couple prayers for baby. Some of them read, "that she would have her mother's gift of hospitality," or "that she would love Jesus," or "that the Lord would bless her with a husband and family of her own."
They then were bundled up + sent home with the mother to read through. So that she would be encouraged as she read the prayers of her friends + family for her baby + so that she too would confidently flood the gates of heaven with prayers for her baby.
Lets get telling
Lets get praying.
+ lets get telling that we are praying.