Lord, help me remember, when I feel It's a chore,
the time will come when I'll hold her no more
asleep on my chest (the crib refused,
the blanket, the pacifier, gone unused).
What better place is there to lay her head
than against my heart, my arms her bed?
For infants grow up and leave us behind
with only memories left to remind
us of midnight walking and predawn rocking,
of soft, helpless babies unable to sleep.
So, Lord, make me patient and keep me awake
while I cradle this child, and don't let me take
for granted the moments I spend in the night
with this baby--Your gift, my joy, my delight.

by Jan Dunlap