Yesterday, as an untimely Autumn wind blew a July day cool and the sun peeked through the trees, I scooped up my baby.
I felt as though I was stealing a moment.
"I am not worthy to receive you," I said with tears streaming down my face.
I am so unworthy. Unworthy of this past year. Unworthy of the privilege of knowing, loving and serving the gift of August. Unworthy of having my sin and selfishness burned away by glowing eyes, the cutest smile and sweet smelling skin.
And when he cries in the night or demands that my own concerns are second to his (even though his concerns should be mine), I hope I always remember the honor that it is just to hold him (and hold all my children for that matter).
For those of you who don't know his story, his daddy wrote it down. For those of you who do, know he's healthy, happy and 1-year-old today. Happy Birthday, Augustine Ambrose. We adore you.