A baby is conceived, unique among billions, with unlimited potential. What impact might he have on the universe; and choose to know, be, and accomplish?
He could turn the universe on its head.
He is wise. If he had speech licked, he could teach the elders obscure mysteries; simple to him in their clarity. Perfect and whole, his soul transcending time, stamped with the image of God. Like a messiah, he is ready to serve, sacrifice, and save.
Who would have thought it.
Mama changes and nurses him. He sleeps peacefully. All is well. He is innocence; he does not conceive of evil, a stranger to him. Baby loves, trusts, and is courageous, too, fearing neither papa nor the police.
He began fearless; who will teach him otherwise.
A little grapevine, he is fruitful early. Sun, sprinkles, soil, and support are his needs. The Almighty saw to the first three; for the last he provides us. We beat back encroaching weeds, spread rich fertilizer, and gently support.
A wise man of antiquity, Solomon, says,
“Train up a child in the way he should go, and when he is old, he will not depart from it.”
Solomon meant the grapevine. He points to the young vine’s peculiar traits and needed support. If it bends to the left, make a tiny lasso to help it climb.
But let it meander toward the sun. Don’t force; it will break. It has its own way the vine should go, and we discover it, cooperating with understanding.
Now watch the miracle unfold.