Our church has a tradition after baptism where the pastor walks the child down the aisle into the congregation. The smiles and oos and awes are contagious. There are not many dry eyes after we sing, “Jesus loves me.”

When it was my turn to be the mother in a baptism, I felt prepared. I’d seen it happen so many times!

But when our pastor walked our six-month-old down the aisle and declared her God’s, panic and fear gripped my heart. He was introducing my child as this whole person outside of me! Impossible!

In this moment, I realized what motherhood really was… stewardship.

Despite the plans I fixed to make, the dreams I prayed up in the womb, none of them were mine to guarantee. She is first, above all, God’s child. I am just the blessed woman entrusted with her care.

Batting away tears, the Spirit came to my rescue just in time:

Jesus loves me, this I know.
Though I am weak, He is strong…

This childhood song swept away the fear and reorientated my thoughts. In releasing my child to God, I was not losing her. I was worshiping, entrusting what I love most back to the One who loves her most.

Emily