4 years ago an ordinary miracle occurred. In a single moment, on the cement floor of a tin roofed shack, the world changed with his single breath.
I wonder often what he looked like that day. I wonder if he was alert, listening to this mother’s whispers, recognizing the sound of her voice. I wonder if he had a head of dark curls that she kissed, I wonder how many times she counted his toes and examined him, declaring him “perfect”.
And I wonder, on that same day 4 years ago, what I was doing. I wonder if my heart skipped a beat in that single second. I wonder if, in that moment, something deep down inside of me knew him. I wonder if that was the day I started missing my son. I didn’t know that anything had changed but suddenly everything was different, because even though I had no idea, my son had just been born.
I wouldn’t meet him until 18 months later but on that February day in 2009 God’s plan was unfolding. His son, my son, was not in my arms on that night but he has always been in His hands.
The 2 amazing birthdays I shared with him were a gift that I will spend the rest of my life thanking Jesus for. Tonight, once again, he is not in my arms but he is still and always will be, in His hands.