Someone had to be the littlest. The last. Oh how she struggles with being the baby of the family.
Not only is she the youngest, but she’s also a bit petite for her age. She wants to be big.
Of course I know that she’s just where she’s supposed to be. Yes, at the tail end, but right in the middle of our hearts.
Just last weekend, we ventured to the highest point of the highest mountain in Vermont. It was quite a climb. We counted bridges, scrambled up rocks and played a game of stepping on each trail blaze. We sang songs and talked about God’s creative power of design.
The God who designed a world also designed a family. Just when we thought we were all but finished with babies, this one snuggled her way in. And we need her. We need her just like we all need each other.
Sure, there is nothing quite like the awe of holding the firstborn. But there is also an exquisite joy in loving the last one. The final gift.