She joined us on a grey January morning, our Wren.
Early labor lasted so long that the ending of it all felt like a freight train had barreled right over us, but oh she was worth it. All the frustration and unknowing and waiting of earlier months melted as we watched her blue eyes blink uncertainly and look to the light beginning to seep through back windows. Maybe it was just me in the sweetness of relief, but it seemed a moment drenched in awe both for us and for her: New life barely begun.
Then she turned to us, her steadfast gaze seeming to say "here I am" with such peace, as if not a care in the world could shake her quiet focus. I couldn't help but lean down to lay my cheek to hers, soaking up the heavenly song our unexpeted little songbird had brought on the swift wings of a new day. And in that first meeting, my tired cheek against her soft new one, the words of Psalm 40 gently pulsed familiarity between us:
"He put a new song in my mouth, a song of praise to our God;
Many will see and fear
and will trust in the Lord."