Growth

My very close friend just had a baby a couple weeks ago. He was premature at over a month early, but I got to visit him in the NICU, and he was the sweetest thing. I began to sing to him, and this little 4-pound baby turned his tiny, doll-like face toward me and opened his eyes to look at mine. He could not eat on his own, maintain his own body temperature, and at times breathe on his own, when he was first born, but he responded so well and quickly to people. They predicted that he would be in the hospital a month. But this little guy was a fighter! He started eating and growing like crazy, and they let him go home after two weeks.

I held him again at their home the other night and watched his older brother come up and roughly throw a toy at his face. I directed his brother to play elsewhere, but thought about this little guy. Everything was against him when he came. He was so weak, so fragile, so small. Unlike other newborns, he doesn’t wake up often nor cry loud. His lungs and sounds are so small. He has to fight to be heard. To cry for the food he needs to make him strong. And yet, he does. Just a few weeks later, and he is nearly 7 pounds. Can a human body grow that fast?? Again, I sang to him, cuddled and kissed him, smiled into his tiny eyes. I felt protective of him. He was precious. But . . .  my greater feeling toward him was admiration! He was a strong little guy! With so very little to work with, He fought with all he had. I wanted to be like him. Yes, I wanted to be like this little 7-pound premie baby.

I think back to the grace that reached down so sweetly to the little girl He saw hiding with the door locked. He knows. He knew. And grace, once again, like rain, falls down on me now. I will go there . . . to the hurt . . .  yes, I will. But I will not stay there. I am strong. I will not hide it in the darkness . . . but neither will I let regret nor disappointment nor loss have a claim over me.

I sit up straight and strong and I talk with my Lord in the closet of our “time.” I will hunger after His Word and cry out for truth, with sometimes but a small voice. I will pursue Him and His Word with all I have. It is the voice of truth to me, what I need to live and to grow, and my heart soaks it in everyday. I know Him more and more.

And I let others in. I take that risk. The ugliness, the brokenness, the shame, can come out. I can cry. I can be weak. Even in public, sometimes, I let my reputation go. I will not hide in shame. That is me. Relationship can only happen to the extent that there is truth, and I want relationship so bad.

But He will get the glory. Because I trust that He will do the healing. I believe it. And if I make a mistake in letting others in, I make a mistake. But I will only know by going there. And so I do.

Here I am. All of me. To You, God. And to others also.

And this little girl says that I cling to hope once again. And perhaps little, sometimes, and certainly precious to Him . . . but I am strong. And, I will cry out for the food that will make me strong. My eyes look up to His song of hope, and I know that there is growth ahead.

It is possible. That such a small one, dependent, can fight for strength. Can find strength. And I hold my own. My own voice. My own heart. My own mind. I feed on His Word, and I grow like crazy.