We had the privilege of welcoming a fourth little baby, and our third son, into the world the day after Thanksgiving. My labor was fast and his delivery even faster. It was by the grace of God we even made it to the hospital in a timely manner! He was born in the early morning hours at a whopping 9lbs and 11oz. He was sporting chipmunk cheeks and perfect little chub rolls on his arms and legs to boot.

Coming home, he adjusted almost flawlessly into our busy and chaotic life as a family of six with his oldest sibling only at age 5. It was almost like we never knew a life without him. My toddler was so happy to have a baby to hold, he follows me around everywhere saying “baby” with outstretched arms in hopes to hold his little brother.

As I sit with this little new being, I always find how astonished I am at the tiny little fingers, even smaller toes of a new baby. His sweet little floppy head, his criss-cross eyes as he tries to use them. It is really quite incredible to me how little and uncoordinated we all start out in life.

As I sat, nursing my little squish, God brought to my mind the idea that we are all “babes in Christ.” When I looked at my little guy, awkwardly trying to latch with his food source literally in his face, I couldn’t help but giggle at the imagery of what we must look like to God.

My son is totally and completely dependent on me. He is unable to eat, move around the house, clean himself, talk to tell me his needs. He doesn’t even have the strength to hold up his little head. He is completely and utterly helpless without me. It is the way we are designed.

I have found that I am often disappointed in myself before God. I am frustrated with how hard it is to be dependent upon Him although I have spent my whole life fighting Him. How weak I am when I am trying to be disciplined in the things of God. How awkward my speech can be in prayer let alone when trying to teach my kids about Christ. It wasn’t until this epiphany that I began to realize, these experiences are not unique to my sinful nature. These experiences and failings are a part of the Christian life.

My baby will not eat unless I guide him to eat. Even then, it can be hard for him to understand that he must latch to take in any sustaining food. I watch as he continues to root around looking for food as if I had not guided him to the very place he is rooting for. I can’t help but see myself as God guides me to His word to drink of the fountain that never runs dry and to eat the bread of life that is all sustaining. I fight as I continue grasp His word looking for substance, direction, anything to anchor my desires. Yet, it is in His patience, He waits for me, with the help of the Holy Spirit, to taste and see that He is good.

I hold my baby’s helpless little head in my arms. Stablizing him, protecting him, focusing his face to gaze on mine. Much like the Lord’s strong hand holds my head. Stabilizing me, supporting me, focusing my gaze fixed on Him. So many times it really does feel like my head, my mind, my heart are just bobbing in the ocean of life with absolutely no direction when I am relying on my own strength. It isn’t until the arm of God and the Holy Spirit grabs my attention and refocuses my mind upon Him. Even practically, left to my son’s strength, he would hurt himself trying to hold his head up. I think we can all draw that feeling to times when we have been left spiritually hurt by decisions we have made in our own strength.

Even my little guys eyes are not strong enough to fix his gaze on any one thing and even when they do become strong, his muscles are still too weak to be able to take in the information that his eyes are giving him. It is mind boggling to me, that when I think of myself as a baby in Christ, of course my eyes are going to struggle to stay fixed on our brilliant Creator. My spiritual eyes are weak and uncoordinated. I have only know darkness, like a baby in the womb. I have never had to focus on one thing because the desires of a sinful heart are accustomed to focusing on one thing for only a little while until it no longer gives us the pleasures we were looking for.

It is exciting to me to see my son because I see him growing stronger, reminding me of the hope of growing stronger in Christ. As he continues to use his eyes to look around and as he continues to strengthen his muscles and as he continues to nurse, he will grow to take on more sustaining food. It is parallel to a baby Christian, like myself, as I continue to focus my eyes on Christ, as I continue to nourish myself on foundational truths, as I continue to strengthen my muscles of dependency on Christ when trials come, I will become a strong Christian who stands steadfast in the deepest storms on my God.

It is interesting though, our human lives are marked with a race to grow more independent. We are consumed with our kids hitting all the milestones quickly, consumed with pushing the limits as if our identities depended on it. In the midst of winning our badge for most independent, we seem to forget that we were made for dependency. Although my son grows stronger and stronger, he will grow more independent of me, needing me less and less but he will inevitably grow dependent on something. Whether it be man’s opinions or God’s praise. Whether it be sex and drugs or God’s promises. He will find something to be dependent on. Much like I, growing more and more independent from the chains of the sinful life I once trod and the former understandings I once grounded myself in, I will grow more depend on God but only after a lifetime of strengthening myself through the help of the Holy Spirit.