How can one not see God in a tiny, brand new baby?
So perfectly formed, with everything she needs. Tiny little fingers, toes, ears. Fuzzy blond hair, and the slight twinge of a smile when she sleeps. I can't imagine looking at a newborn and thinking anything but "miracle." From the tiniest speck, this human being formed, whether planned or unplanned. Always wanted, by God if by no one else. Here to accomplish a specific purpose on Earth, but for the time being, as MercyMe sang in "Joseph's Lullaby":
I believe the glory of Heaven
Is lying in my arms tonight.
Lord, I ask that he, for just this moment
Simply be my child.
God does give us those children for a time, and it feels like they belong to us. They are half us, after all. But God has an amazing purpose and plan for each of those children, though we can rarely guess what it could be. It could be monumental; it could be simple. But it is a purpose nonetheless. I know this for my own daughter; I trust it and pray for it every day, that she will grow in grace and love and beauty, inside and out, encouraged by those around her, and loved for whomever she becomes.
For her, I pray the "prayer" of Luke 2:52, a verse I memorized long ago through my church's scouting program. "And Jesus increased in wisdom and stature, and in favor with God and man."
A parent could hope for nothing more.