The evening’s not quite over when he cries awake again. He has been stirring and unsettled, night after night for the past few, a tiny chest congested and a tiny nose running. We hear him through the monitor and I hurry to the room.

I fumble in, in the dark, slow slow tip-toe, hands in front of me like one who cannot see. Groping between blankets and pillows for a pacifier that has fallen from the tiny, slightly parted lips of the precious little soul half asleep and all upset in my bed.

No matter how many times he cries, we go back. With shushing and resettling, rocking and encouraging. Checking he’s not too warm or cold or hungry, his bottom isn’t dirty or wet.


I remember lying in a bathtub in the hospital, less than a day after giving birth to him. He was down the hall, being weighed and checked by the nurses. And though there may have been a dozen other newborns in the maternity ward, and I’d heard lots of cries, I heard his cry — my whole being knew it. I knew his cry, because he was mine.

And we who are privileged with the gift of this tiny life return to his bedside when his little chest sounds gruff in its breathing and his coughs wake him. No matter how many times He needs us, we go.

I ruminate as the fumbling continues, rearranging blankets and snuggling him in — isn’t the Lord that Good Father who hears every cry of His children?

Ever present, isn’t He always there? All-knowing, isn’t He sure of what’s best in every situation?

I am His and He hears me.

Back in our neighbourhood in Gordon’s Bay, I heard the sweet chirping of chicks on a walk one day, and spotted a guinea fowl with her young. She — uncomfortable with my presence — drew her chicks up under her fluffy feathers. Once they were all drawn underneath her, she lowered herself to cover them and their sweet chirps went silent.

They were covered, and comforted — they were safe.

How sweet it is to serve and know a God who can always cover me. Not a sparrow falls to the ground without Him knowing — and aren’t I of more value than many sparrows?

He shall cover you with His feathers, And under His wings you shall take refuge; His truth shall be your shield and buckler. {Psalm 91: 4, NKJV}

Whatever you’re facing, may you find refuge under His wings.


{Sorry we aren’t Travelling this Tuesday…taking care of a little one and taking extra time to help the Bear transition!}