The Bigger Picture: A New Sweet Song

We keep whispered vigil in the early morning whisps of Sunday sunrise.



Quiet, the hum of the fan fades into the elongated mmmms of labor escaping from pressed-together lips.



We are dawn-light drenched mother robins perched in the branches of trees, awaiting the first chirps of a small baby bird to add song to the praise chorus of encouragement.

A steady rhythm finally breaks the staccato song of building contractions as morning twilight gives way to full sun.

Fullness in time, a mother's body knows

lets go

and

tiny lungs clear, belt out a tune of beautiful cries --

a crescendo to the swan song of labor

that fades into the beginning verses of a new sweet song we welcome gladly to our ears.

 

Welcome to the world baby girl, EV. Yours is the song we've been awaiting. May He make your life a song of praise.