Baby's Cry
Read Psalm 8.
Before I had kids, I used to think there wasn't anything cuter or sweeter than a baby's cry. Then it was my baby crying. In the middle of the night. Disrupting my sleep and shaking my world. Suddenly, that cry was not so cute after all! It was one thing to feel sorry for the parent in the grocery store whose kid was unhappy and was throwing a fit; it's a whole other thing when it's your child doing the same thing and people are staring!
And yet, if the words of the psalmist are to be believed, a baby's cry is a sweet sound to heaven. When a baby cries, it's a song of praise—in fact, it's a powerful song of praise that stops the enemies of God. The psalmist says, "Through the praise of children and infants you have established a stronghold against your enemies, to silence the foe and the avenger" (Psalm 8:2). Eugene Peterson puts it even more clearly in The Message: "Nursing infants gurgle choruses about you; toddlers shout the songs that drown out enemy talk, and silence atheist babble."
I can tell you, though, that babies' cries aren't heard that way on this side of heaven! If only I could get the mindset of heaven, where that cry represents the gift of life, and reaching toward God, the creator and sustainer of it all. The psalmist even points out that a baby's cry can silence those who don't believe in God because infants are the irrefutable evidence that life is a gift and a miracle. Watch even the most hardened person in the world hold a newborn baby and that hardness begins to soften, the shell begins to crack. There is something deep within us that recognizes life is a gift. It didn't spring surprisingly from some primordial goo. It is a gift from the one who creates and sustains it all.
A baby's cry reminds us of that. A baby's cry is a song of praise. Even in the middle of the night. Even when I didn't want to get up. Even in the middle of a grocery store with people staring. Maybe someday, if that happens with a grandchild I happen to have, I'll just start singing, "Praise God from whom all blessings flow..."
Before I had kids, I used to think there wasn't anything cuter or sweeter than a baby's cry. Then it was my baby crying. In the middle of the night. Disrupting my sleep and shaking my world. Suddenly, that cry was not so cute after all! It was one thing to feel sorry for the parent in the grocery store whose kid was unhappy and was throwing a fit; it's a whole other thing when it's your child doing the same thing and people are staring!
And yet, if the words of the psalmist are to be believed, a baby's cry is a sweet sound to heaven. When a baby cries, it's a song of praise—in fact, it's a powerful song of praise that stops the enemies of God. The psalmist says, "Through the praise of children and infants you have established a stronghold against your enemies, to silence the foe and the avenger" (Psalm 8:2). Eugene Peterson puts it even more clearly in The Message: "Nursing infants gurgle choruses about you; toddlers shout the songs that drown out enemy talk, and silence atheist babble."
I can tell you, though, that babies' cries aren't heard that way on this side of heaven! If only I could get the mindset of heaven, where that cry represents the gift of life, and reaching toward God, the creator and sustainer of it all. The psalmist even points out that a baby's cry can silence those who don't believe in God because infants are the irrefutable evidence that life is a gift and a miracle. Watch even the most hardened person in the world hold a newborn baby and that hardness begins to soften, the shell begins to crack. There is something deep within us that recognizes life is a gift. It didn't spring surprisingly from some primordial goo. It is a gift from the one who creates and sustains it all.
A baby's cry reminds us of that. A baby's cry is a song of praise. Even in the middle of the night. Even when I didn't want to get up. Even in the middle of a grocery store with people staring. Maybe someday, if that happens with a grandchild I happen to have, I'll just start singing, "Praise God from whom all blessings flow..."
I'd love to see you burst out in song when your grandchild cries. Hey, it might even calm the child!
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