I love babies, like I really love them. When I see them, my little heart skips a beat and I want to have one of my own. A gummy creature who smiles at the sound of my voice and kicks their legs in excitement when they see me enter a room. Someone to depend on me and someone to love affectionately and unconditionally.
But I digress, I’m single as a dollar bill (and content, might I add) and don’t spend much time thinking about my future as a mother, Lord willing. I’m not even in a courtship so to waste tons of time fantasizing about being a mommy right now is silly. Plus, in all actuality I would like to be married for a few years, learning how to best serve my husband before adding children to the equation. (Can you tell that I’ve planned this all out in my head, sans having a man?)
Anyway, I was praying this morning and when it came time to pray for my cousin David I could not stop smiling and laughing.
As an undergrad at Florida State College at Jacksonville, I watched my Aunt Sylvia’s baby named David almost everyday after school. I have memories of taking him to the park, singing him songs, dancing with his little squishy body pressed into mine, an easy laugh bubbling up from his belly after a warm bottle of milk.
My favorite memory of baby Dave is one where I was finishing up some homework and I could hear some rustling from his crib. I put my calculator and notebook away and slowly opened the door so that I wouldn’t scare him.
When he saw me entering the room, a smile broke out across his little face and he immediately reached out for me. I showered his little face in kisses and asked him all about his dreams and if he enjoyed his nap. He couldn’t talk but I just knew that he’d had great dreams. He was such a happy baby.
Fast forward through undergrad and it’s time for me to leave for the University of Central Florida. I remember thinking to myself that David was going to forget who I was. He would no longer see me everyday. He would go to daycare and make new friends and have new care givers and all I would have are my memories of us, and his little mind would forget. My prayer to the Lord before I left Jacksonville was that David would remember me.
While I was away, baby Dave grew older and I wasn’t able to make it home as much, but when I did, he knew EXACTLY who I was. I was greeted with kisses and hugs and he could walk and say my name and he knew exactly who I was.
Anytime I talk to my Aunt Sylvia or my granny they tell me stories of how David talks about how much he loves me and that I’m his girlfriend (his mother makes sure he knows we can’t get married because I’m his cousin.) The last time I visited his house, wedged in the little mirror in his bedroom was a picture of me that he was so proud to show me. “It’s you!” He beamed looking up at me, just in case I didn’t recognize myself.
He’s getting older, his affection is very short lived before he runs off to play with the other kids his age but he knows who Amber is and he loves her very much, but not as much as I love him.
I shared this story to show you all how faithful God is. The majority of the time that I spent with David was doing things that he will probably never remember and couldn’t even verbalized at the time. But God was faithful to my one request. David has remembered and loved me for a long time and if God can be faithful in something so small that he knew would bring me great joy, he can do the same for you.
I believe the experiences I’ve had with baby Dave and other children have only shaped and given me glimpses into what motherhood would be like and I’m so thankful to have those memories and God’s faithfulness to show me that my time spent with baby David was not in vein.
Don’t forget to rejoice in the small things. God is faithful and so worthy to be praised.
Amber
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