This was written by an amazing young man of faith who goes to our church. He is only twenty years young. After reading it I sat there trying to convince myself that he wasn't so much older than twenty never mind the fact being that he is a dude. His perception and parallel from his story to how we are in Christ just amazed me. This young man will be a leader of many and he will do so by his genuine authentic heart. With his permission I present to you "Kevin's Note". He said he would be honored if I were to share it with all of you.
Too Young to be twenty
8:34am Sunday, Jul 22
My brother was holding her, his new daughter, his brand new baby girl, only 4 days old. Then he said it to me, I'd been anxiously waiting for him to ask, "Kev, do you wanna hold her?". With a simple nod of my head I was holding a small, weightless, beautiful human being. Her eyes were closed for almost the whole time I held her, but once, just once, I saw one eye peek out at me through a heavy eye lid. Her eyes are a deep dark blue, not poetic perhaps but beautiful still. She looked at me and without the slightest sound closed her eyes again and went back into a deep sleep. There was an immediate trust. She did not know me, how could she know me, and yet, she lay there in my arms in comfort. I began thinking of this little one, how much of life she doesn't know, how much her eyes have not seen. She does not know pain, how could she know pain? She does not know fear, how could she know fear? She does not know love. How could she know love?
Sometimes I feel no different from a baby. Just a new born caught up in this adult body. I cry when I'm sad, giggle when I'm happy, eat when I'm hungry, go to the bathroom when...well you know. I feel so fragile, so innocent, so easily broken. When I look at life, when I look at all there is to know, I know very, very little. I know VERY little. I am ever dependant. And yet unlike a baby, I peek open my eyes and see what life has to offer, and I don't go back to sleep trusting in He who holds me. I stay wide eyed and still not seeing clearly. I squint...still not knowing. I peer through the mist they call life, the fog they call reality and see nothing. Still I misunderstand.
As I held this little girl she opened her mouth and began to reach out with her tongue. She was hungry. Her eyes were still closed, but she reached out for her source, still trusting she would find it.Will I reach out when I cannot see?
What must I do to see clearly, to reach this completeness, to find this consummation, this source, the final rest, the ultimate peace. Trust? In what, if not that which is before me. Hope? In what, if not what I can see. Love? Love? I feel though as a baby. Innocent, unknowing. How can I love? How can a baby love?
I once saw in a magazine a picture with a small article beside it. The article was about a baby who's spine was forming incorrectly in the whom. It was only in the whom about 4 months but the doctors knew that this child would not be born with a normal spine. It may not even survive the birth. So the doctors and parents agreed to do spinal surgery on the unborn baby. They would remove the amniotic sac from the mother, make a small hole in the sac of which to conduct the surgery, proceed with the surgery and then put the baby back in the womb to continue it's development. As the doctor was finishing up the successful surgery, a small hand reached out from the hole of the amniotic sac. The hand was no bigger than the doctors index finger nail. The hand reached out and grabbed hold of the doctors finger. The picture was of this small hand no bigger than a guitar pic reaching out of the amniotic sac and holding onto a finger that looked to be gigantic beside the small hand.
What is a baby capable of? Can it love?
1 Cor. 13:13
Brought out from within the fire
Paid for by the blood
Born to be a blessing
A child born to love