Free shipping on all orders over $75🎄

My sweet baby, 

As I sit here feeding you, nestled in my arms, your little hand opens up and reaches for my finger. My heart simply melts. Could there be anything sweeter than your baby grabbing your finger? They hold it as tight as they can as if you to reach out and say, “I love you and please don’t ever leave.”

A child reaching for their mama is one of the sweetest parts of motherhood. It’s one of those feelings you wish you could bottle up and open on hard days.

I know the way you reach for me will change as you grow, I simply pray you never stop reaching.

As you become a toddler, I pray you reach for my hands while you learn how to walk and run. I will be right there to guide you and make sure you don’t fall.

RELATED: The Secret No One Told Me About the Toddler Years is How Much I Could Absolutely Love Them

As you become a preschooler, I pray you reach for my leg and hold on tight before going into that classroom. I will be right there to comfort you and make sure you feel safe. 

As you become a big kid, I pray you reach for my arms when you’ve had a hard day navigating friendships. I will be right there to wrap you in a hug and make sure you are heard. 

As you become a teenager, I pray you reach for my shoulders when the future starts to weigh heavy on you.

I will be right there to listen and let you rest some of that weight on me. 

RELATED: I’ll Hold You Until I No Longer Can—And Even Then I Will Try

And as you become a grown adult yourself, I pray you reach for your phone when you need advice or just want to chat. I will be right there to answer every time. May you visit often and reach out for a hug every time. 

In every phase of life, may you always look toward your mama. And may you know that no matter how you reach out, I will always be there to grab you. 

May you never, ever stop reaching for me, my sweet baby. 

So God Made a Mother book by Leslie Means

If you liked this, you'll love our new book, SO GOD MADE A MOTHER available now!

Order Now

Raiyah Hurt

A lover of reading novels, writing, spending time with family, and traveling the world. Learning more about life and gaining a deeper outlook with each experience God puts me through. Always trying to focus on the sunny side. 

Your Tiny Hands Hold My Heart

In: Baby, Motherhood
Mother holding newborn baby's hand

We’re swaying to the steady rhythm of the rocking chair, a nestled buoy bobbing with the current. My sweet baby boy, how you’ve already changed so much in these few short months. It’s in this chair that time seems to freeze and fly in varying waves of realization. Breaking free from the blanket in a gentle act of rebellion, your hands reach for me. They’re dimpled, tiny, and perfect. They’re the simplest marker of time, your hands.  Those hands that splayed your fingers wide and long as the doctor pulled you from my body. I’ll never forget, against all the...

Keep Reading

I Swore I’d Never Forget Your Little Hand Holding Mine, But I Have and That’s OK

In: Child, Kids, Motherhood, Tween
Mother with child at edge of lake, color photo

Your first baby is just a whole new world. Their little fingers and toes are everything. You finally understand time in a new way as the days feel like a month and a month feels like a day. The sweet joy is palpable with this new bundle. And the next one? Absolutely the same joy. And you swear, even amongst this exhaustion and tiredness, that you will never forget their precious littleness. I knew this time was fleeting. I felt it racing by as my heart was clinging desperately to the presence of her chubby cheeks and sweet, sweaty hands....

Keep Reading

My Mother’s Hands Still Hold My Heart

In: Grown Children, Motherhood
Grandmother giving baby a bath in the kitchen sink, black-and-white photo

“My hands are getting so old,” my mother said. “They’re ugly.” We were sitting together having a glass of wine, and she held the glass up as she looked at them. I looked at them too. I didn’t see ugly hands.  I saw hands that had rocked me to sleep.  Hands that reached for mine as I took my first steps.  Hands that wiped away my tears. On my first day at school. After I fell and skinned my knee. The first time my heart was broken. When I lost my baby. Hands that clapped for me. My first play....

Keep Reading