Loving On'em

I held a little bitty one today. He came early with drugs in his little body. His tiny hands were lost and his body was swallowed in the onesie. While we scurried around filling out paperwork and finding a home for little one to sleep tonight, I clumsily fed him a bottle, burped him, and changed his diaper. I don't have all that much experience in those areas. But he didn't mind.

And then he did mind. He cried and hollered much louder than such a little bitty body should. We walked and rocked and bounced. I held him close and before long, he quieted.

In the midst of the harrowing circumstances, one of the most divine aspects of my job arises.

I must love on those kids.

I have the privilege of being present with them on the beginning of that journey of unknowns between danger and safety. It's so hard, full of tears and fears. But I do my best to show all the love that I have to each one. It looks different with each child. It's been throwing bread crusts to ducks, hugging a little one covered in ringworm and holding him close, buying a hamburger with extra pickles, giving words of hope and reassurance, playing Connect Four, coloring pictures and making funny faces at each other at the hospital, or reading stories to one sitting on my lap. 

I can't make any promises to them. I can't predict or control what's going to happen.

All I can do is love on'em. So love on'em I do.