I tiptoed into your room last night.
I watched you sleeping there.
Your tiny body looked so snug
Wrapped in peaceful slumber's care.
I thought of how you came to be
The child we'd longed to know.
I wondered at the sight of you:
"How could she let you go?"
Tears streamed down my cheeks as I
Felt the pain she must have known.
For I will have to let you go
Some day when you are grown.
A mother I might never meet
Had given me her son.
Yet, surely as you've filled my heart,
A piece of hers you'd won.
"How could she let you go?"
The question kept returning.
And in the depths of my own heart.
A question kept on burning.
"How can I ever let you go
When years have come and gone?"
I stood there by your crib until
The nighttime turned to dawn.
And as the sun peeked through the shades,
The voice of God broke through.
"I trusted her to give him life
And now I'm trusting to you.
"To show him what is right and wrong,
to love him and to be
The one who teaches him the way
To come back home to me.
"He wasn't hers to give, you know.
And he's not yours to own.
I've placed him in your life to love
But he is mine … on loan."
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
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