For Emil, my firstborn's firstborn (from mom's perspective)

[least]

I realize that you can be a pain.
Your volume button's stuck on LOUD again.
There's spit up on my Sunday dress,
Your pants are full, the house a mess,
But, little one, I love you all the same.

The pangs of birth are hard, I won't deny,
And yet I know you had it worse than I.
Such beauty in your tiny face;
Divine perfection, love, and grace.
A miracle, no less, your little cry.

You changed us, darling boy, all to the good.
Our purpose now is better understood.
Your life's our love, personified,
To glorify The One who died,
And worship Him with loving parenthood.


by me