Of babies and fuzzy feelings

I love waking up in the morning and see my sweet little baby sleeping so peacefully next to me. The face is so innocent, calm and it is so hard to resist kissing and smelling the baby smell.

For some reasons, this morning I woke up and suddenly remembered the lyrics from the song 'In the Bleak Midwinter' (lyrics shared below) which we are singing in our church choir. It stirs my maternal instinct each time I get to the parts of mother and child. Which I can so relate.

When I look at that cute little face on the pillow next to mine, angels and cherubs came to my mind. But not forgetting my own little angel Vincent too. He had filled that part of my life too, once. Life is beautiful.

Life is beautiful - this is what someone IM-ed yesterday. She lost her only baby 3 years ago and 6 months ago, she finally found a newborn baby to care for (through adoption). I am soooooo happy for her. Listening to her complaining about diaper changes, night waking, milk feeds and all that is music to my ears.Things that we take for granted, is prayers answered to some. She is enjoying every bit of the sleepless nites and extra work. When I heard of how the baby came into her life, I have to believe in miracles, God and prayers answered.

(P.s. : My breastfeeding group moms may like to note the lyrics mentioned about breastful of milk. Yeah, Jesus grew on breastmilk too.)


(source )
'In the Bleak Midwinter'


In the bleak midwinter, frosty wind made moan,
Earth stood hard as iron, water like a stone;
Snow had fallen, snow on snow, snow on snow,
In the bleak midwinter, long ago.

Our God, heaven cannot hold Him, nor earth sustain;
Heaven and earth shall flee away when He comes to reign.
In the bleak midwinter a stable place sufficed
The Lord God Almighty, Jesus Christ.

Enough for Him, Whom cherubim, worship night and day,
Breastful of milk, and a mangerful of hay;
Enough for Him, Whom angels fall before,
The ox and ass and camel which adore.

Angels and archangels may have gathered there,
Cherubim and seraphim thronged the air;
But His mother only, in her maiden bliss,
Worshipped the beloved with a kiss.

What can I give Him, poor as I am?
If I were a shepherd, I would bring a lamb;
If I were a Wise Man, I would do my part;
Yet what I can I give Him: give my heart.