Dear Ruthie
Tonight, you were so fussy right before bed. It was close to 10:30pm and we knew you were exhausted... but like always, you fought it hard.
I held you close in our bedroom, where your white cradle is currently nestled in the corner, close enough for us to reach you in an instant. I held you close, one arm under your butt, one hand behind your neck. I held you, just trying my best to comfort you, shhhh-ing you and bouncing and occasionally rubbing your back.
Then the Lord brought a song to my mind:
I love you, Lord,
And I lift my voice
To worship You.
Oh my soul: Rejoice!
Take joy, my King,
In what You hear.
May it be a sweet, sweet sound
In Your ear.
And I was struck, baby girl, by how my song was worship to Him... but perhaps your whimpers and cries were, too. In Sunday School, Jeff brought up Psalm 8:2, which says, "Through the praise of children and infants, You have established a stronghold against Your enemies, to silence the foe and the avenger."
Your daddy and I pray daily that you will know the Lord... and not just know Him, but follow Him and walk with Him, not turning to the right or to the left. What an honor we have to teach you how to worship Him as an infant.
Love,
Mama
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