The Inherited Promise

The smallest picture

The nightlight paints golden shadows on the nursery wall. You're in my arms, sweet baby boy, with those tiny eyes that can't focus on the world yet but already seem to be searching for something eternal.

I'm holding a picture. It's the smallest one in the album. An album I've prepared for you, little one, with ten pictures that tell a story. Your story. The one that begins today and reaches farther than you could ever dream.

I show you yourself: a newborn baby, just hours old, cradled in your daddy's arms in the hospital room. His eyes are swimming with tears he doesn't know whether to call joy or holy fear.

"Do you see this moment, precious boy?" I whisper as your tiny fingers curl around my thumb with a strength that breaks my heart wide open. "This is the picture of the day you were born."

And you need to know something important: you are not here by accident.

The picture comes alive before my tired but joyful eyes. I see your father holding my hand through labor, whispering prayers he didn't know he knew. I see the doctor lifting you up and saying, "He's perfect." I see that first cry that filled the room and my heart in the same instant.

But there's something the doctor couldn't see, little one. Something the monitors couldn't measure.

While you were taking your first breath, Someone was already whispering your name. Someone who had woven together every cell, counted every hair, dreamed every smile before you even existed.

You're named after your grandfather, you know? Isaac. A name that means "laughter." Because when your grandmother was carrying him, she smiled all the time. "This baby is going to be a promise that laughs," she used to say.

She had no idea how right she was.

Because you, little Isaac, were born from a promise. Not just mine and daddy's promise. A much older promise. A promise that reaches way back.

So far back it begins with another Isaac, thousands of years ago. A baby born when everyone thought it was impossible. A baby who existed because God had made a promise to his father Abraham.

And that promise never ended, sweet boy. It has traveled through centuries, generations, countries, and wars. It has survived every obstacle, every doubt, every moment when it seemed like all was lost.

Until it reached you.

"The Lord said, 'Do not go down to Egypt... I will be with you.'" (Genesis 26:2-3, NIV)

Those words He spoke to the first Isaac He's whispering to you right now. While you sleep in this little white crib, while your tiny hands move like they're already reaching for the future.

I will be with you.

Not "maybe I'll be with you" when you're good. Not "I'll be with you" if you do everything right. "I will be with you." Period. Always. No matter what. Wherever you go.

But before I show you the other pictures from your future, let me tell you what I already know will happen in the years ahead, because a mama sees things that don't exist yet but her heart knows will come to pass.

At one year old, you'll take your first steps. You'll fall a thousand times, get up a thousand and one. I will be with you when you fall, I will be with you when you rise. And you'll learn that falling doesn't mean failing. It means you're learning to fly.

At two, you'll say your first complete word: "Mama." My heart will explode with joy and I'll cry for ten minutes. But that evening, when I tuck you in, I'll whisper that there's Someone who rejoiced even more than me. Someone who's been waiting forever to hear you call His name too.

At three, you'll have your first fear of the dark. You'll come to our bed seeking warmth, safety, the certainty that you're not alone. I'll tell you that even in the darkest night, I will be with you. And you'll understand that real love doesn't disappear when the lights go out.

In the days ahead, little one, I'll show you the other pictures. Pictures of bigger moments you haven't lived yet but that are waiting for you down the road. Difficult moments, beautiful moments, moments when you'll feel alone and moments when you'll feel like the world is smiling at you.

In every one of those moments, remember this promise.

I will be with you.

Not just me, your mama. But the One who taught me what this love that never abandons means. The One who made the first promise to that first Isaac and has never stopped keeping it.

And if you sometimes forget, if sometimes it seems like you're alone against everything and everyone, come back and look at this picture. The one from the day you were born. The day an ancient promise became flesh and blood in you.

The day you began to carry in your name the laughter of God for everything He had prepared for you.

Sleep, little Isaac.

The promise that rocked you before you were born will continue to rock you forever.

I will be with you when you take your first steps. I will be with you when you say your first words. I will be with you when you're afraid of the dark. I will be with you when you laugh so hard your belly hurts.

I will be with you when you're seven years old and have to face your first big challenge.

Tomorrow I'll tell you about that day.

--Mama who knows that God's promises are stronger than time