The Sleeping Face of My Beautiful Boy

After the lullaby, I see the sleeping face of my beautiful boy, two years old. And at once, all the world is still. Time moves forth from this moment in reluctant ripples. Slow-moving reflections of memories, past and future that will become a whole life. Separate from my own, but always flowing in and out and leading to the same ocean.

I well up with gratitude that he is my child and he is in this world. And in the same breath, I grieve that this world is full of things that will threaten the very peace that now gently animates his whole being. I imagine all the possibilities of his life, impressions sweet and tender, terrible and tremulous.

Fear would like to choke all of my most beautiful dreams. It would like to take the wondrous joy out of even this moment, where loveliness emanates like a lighted candle in a dark room.

But as I look at the face that wakes my heart to feeling and emotion, to a knowing that life itself is the most precious gift ever given me, I take heart. And I turn my whole being to the God who creates and sustains all of it. He has not left us defenseless, eyes closed, blindly groping for a way forward. Even in darkness, he has given us dreams and vision. He has given us Himself, and he has given us eternity. And the terrors of this world are shadows that are dispelled by the everlasting light of his presence.

I make a memory of this sleeping face. For the beauty of it. And for the image that I want to settle into my soul. Oh my soul, rest. Be at peace.

The Lord your God is with you, he is mighty to save. He will take great delight in you, he will quiet you with his love, he will rejoice over you with singing. (Zephaniah 3:17)

black and white drawing of baby sleeping, monochrome, art, memory, mackenzie chester, pen and ink, artist, journal, the sacred everyday, poetry, writing

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