Silence. Pain. Solitude. Hostility. Emptiness. Not exactly what you'd expect to find in the delivery room of a first time mother after giving birth to a tiny, beautiful baby boy.

The newborn lay asleep in the center of the room along in the new and unfamiliar world.
The mother and family sat around the perimeter.

The baby boy scratched his face with his tiny nails producing the first physical signs across his cheeks evidencing that this new earthly body is now susceptible to physical pain.

Nobody put his mittens on him.

He was still, asleep, not yet aware of his circumstances, his surroundings, his regretful, uninterested mother.

Not yet aware of emotional pain.

Every urge in my body told me to hold him and keep him warm and kiss his beautiful scratched cheeks.

I wanted to bring him home to adopt him as my own before he could awake to anything besides happiness and peace and Love.

Then I realized that these earthly maternal urges barely compare to the way the Lord views us and viewed me. The way my heart wanted to explode at the sight of this new life alone in the middle of the room barely scratches the crazy is that. I found comfort in the silence. I knew he was not knit together by accident.

Nothing surprises Him, and this little one will not be forsaken. Nothing surprises Him, and I will not be forsaken.