It’s hard to believe, but a little over a month ago, on November 9, my daughter Annalise was born. The process that ended with her being delivered via cesarian section is for another post, but of all the things I remember was what my wife was saying. We heard what sounded like the doctors referring to the baby being out and my wife began saying, “Come on baby, just cry. Just cry for us. Come on, just cry. I’ll know everything is okay if I just hear her cry.”
Annalise finally let out a sweet little cry before cooing while they cleaned her up some. The anesthesiologist said he had never seen a baby that didn’t scream their head off; he was amazed at our content girl. What amazed me, upon reflection, was the comfort that, that cry brought. The hope that accompanied our daughter’s first cry.
Crying is usually associated with something negative. It can mean someone is hurt physically or emotionally. It can mean someone is scared or at their wits end. It can mean a baby is hungry, needs a change of diaper, has gas, or any other myriad of things. But in this case, it was the opposite; it was very positive!
This time of year I think of the nativity scene. Jesus is born and with the cry of that newborn, promises are fulfilled, long awaited hope comes to an apex, and comfort is given. There is hope for a world found in the cry of that baby. God incarnate was born to set His people free from sin. Oh the hope and excitement the heavens must bounded with! The angels burst forth to pronounce the joy that He brought!
I’m constantly reminded of this event with my own baby. Even still as she sleeps so silently, sometimes my mind wonders if she is ok. She often stirs a little and lets out a little whimper, a little cry and I am comforted with the continual hope that every thing is going to be alright.
I think it odd where my hope is found, in a cry of baby. For my own daughter in her cries at birth and to this day. For me, my family, and everyone else in what began with the cries of the newborn Christ over 2000 years ago.