
Dances and Diapers: Reflections on Parenting and Prayer
I hold my newborn son; he holds my gaze. As I carry him in my arms, he carries my heart to a new place. I notice every shift of his eyes, every wince, every movement, and all the thoughts he has not yet learned to express. I feel every ounce of energy jolting through his body. Then I feel the energy slowly dissipate, trickling out into the nothingness, as I bob him up and down, swaying in the living room to Fleetwood Mac. His body relaxes as he closes his eyes.