Our first grandson* (I love him so!) was born a preemie. At first, we could not hold him. “Being held is stressful,” the nurses said.
So we watched him and we prayed, continually asking the Lord to hold him.
The next morning I noticed a book in a restroom. I picked it up and it fell open to this: “People were bringing little children to Jesus . . . and he took them in his arms, put his hands on them, and blessed them” (from Mark 10:13-16).
It seemed to me the Lord was saying, “You don’t have to keep asking. I heard you the first time. Holding too-small babies is what I do. It’s who I am.”
My tear-filled pleas became prayers of thanksgiving: “Thank you, Lord, for holding baby boy!”
*Baby boy, born to our middle daughter, is now 6+ weeks old. He’s home and doing well.