It’s after midnight and I’m listening for the rain on the window to tell me a story.
Then I hear a sound in the next room… the telltale humming. The humming that announces she’s awake and we could be up all night. The humming that sometimes precedes the screaming, jumping, laughing, crashing. The humming that means one of us will have to get up and take her to the bathroom.
I am only grateful for the humming tonight, an excuse for me to hold her, safe and so loved in this moment.
Tonight it’s sad. Her song with words I don’t know. Even as I kiss her soggy cheeks, her song is so deeply sad amidst the raindrops.
I listen and mourn with those who mourn. Oh Lord, how we mourn and pray.
All those mothers, all those fathers aching for their babies.
“In the same way, the Spirit helps us in our weakness. For we do not know what we should pray for as we ought, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groans that words cannot express.” ~Romans 8:26