A few days ago, I met someone new. Literally new, as in newly born and fresh from the NICU. He came into the world early, but he is making great strides in his development. Everyone near him lights up. You just can’t help it.
Anytime I have a newborn in my arms, I immediately start swaying from side to side. I remember that feeling of being a new mother, holding a precious life tucked snug against my heart. I look into his eyes, take note of little lips and tiny fingers, inhale that baby smell, and murmur sweet nothings--a blessing of sorts over his life.
Babies are born every day, every minute even. The sheer number of births, however, does not diminish the value of each one. Just because we can explain the mechanics does not mean that any birth is any less miraculous.
But some babies are not born. Some are lost--whether through natural means or through mankind’s interference.
Have you ever noticed that lofty principles and abstract ideologies (of all kinds) become hollow when you look into the eyes of a living, breathing human being?
Every baby is precious, every one a work of art, every one knit together by the hands of God and made in His image.
Tiny hands that grasp grown-up fingers, eyes that see (however dimly at first), ears that know their parents’ voices, lungs that breathe in and out, hearts that pump lifeblood through tiny bodies. Amazing.
Living, breathing beauty—for which there is no equal on earth and no one has the right to destroy.
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Photo courtesy of Unsplash.
