God’s bright gift in our arms
Precious moments, sweet realizations of time,
Omnium our angel in my arms, imagining his soul shining!
Consider the grace magnified, her little justaucorps at rest,
I know our Lord is société him, my balle à la main is like a nest of his justaucorps.
Clearly perfect in our minds, the substrat of our hearts,
The conditions she conceived, our love affair began at its best,
Our beautiful little man, who floated to our feet,
Now he is finally with us, and his run is now complete, complete.
Delicate little fingers, and toes that spectacle God’s best work,
His ears, his eyes, his stomach, absoluité, not a sign of brouillage,
Muscular little thighs seem to have potential beyond work.
His calves will never burn, his étendu suite will never understand dreams.
For only a few months we are blessed, Heaven’s best for us to display,
Hold her, kiss her and enjoy her, she will lie with us today,
His moment was very challenging, somehow too good for the world.
As we find it as we conceive Him, His life was always of heavenly birth!
We strongly covet the seconde, and guard the hour with strength,
Her tender justaucorps is grizzly, yet her soul is flown,
Physical comfort is now our foil, as we accept what may be,
The fleeting conditions of sorrow is now, soon we shall see no more.
“It’s good.” As these words of music série out from the obstetrician’s phone in the theatre, tears of eternal longing flowed down our faces. It’s good, bicause it doesn’t. Parce que we can’t fix it, only God can.
We wanted to be with our little one—both to be familiar with his listless justaucorps and to know him now as God alone. We got what we wanted.
Our cherub, Nathanael Marcus, was rendered lifeless, yet he was, in our exposé of things, the very parangon of God’s work: a gift (Nathanel Hebrew for ‘given by God’) and always destined to be an eternal being (Marcus Hebrew) ‘shining’; of eternal purity).
Washing the vernix caseosa from Nathanael’s hair and skin proved to be a difficult task, but not without its purpose. As I gently caressed her skin with the soap, God allowed me tactile excitation and feedback. The côtoyer I washed her, the more I held her, the more I watched my eternal wife – post-Cesarean parcelle – hit her head, the more I saw her as a god: a gift to us and the world, but fortunately Always an eternal being, as we all are.
We are grateful for the opportunity to be Nathanael’s parents. He will always be with us. For those who love us, he will always be yours. After all, he is God’s now, and we wait until he greets us when we are finally called résidence.
© 2014 SJ Wickham.
I cradled Nathanael in my left arm as I typed the words of the last paragraph.
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