Miracle of A Child
I still remember the day my son first picked up a guitar. His hands fumbled with the strings, his face full of concentration and quiet determination. It wasn’t about perfection—it was about the joy of discovery, the courage to try something new. Over the years, I’ve watched that same determination evolve, shaping him into the thoughtful, creative, and kind soul he is today. His journey has taught me so much about trust—trusting the unfolding of his life, trusting the Divine to guide him, and trusting myself to simply be present.
There is a sacred rhythm to life, a quiet unfolding that speaks to the mystery of who we are and why we are here. As a parent, I’ve been gifted the profound honor of witnessing this miracle up close—watching the soul of a child, entrusted to my care, slowly reveal itself, layer by beautiful layer.
When they are little, their light feels boundless, untamed. Their laughter dances like wind through the trees, and their eyes hold a world of wonder, as if they have just returned from the Divine, carrying secrets they’ve yet to share. But as the years pass, something extraordinary begins to take shape. It’s as if the soul they carried from the heavens begins to anchor itself here, in this world.
I’ve watched my children navigate life’s terrain—the triumphs, the heartaches, the quiet moments of doubt and discovery—and each step has been a revelation. It’s humbling to realize that we are not here to mold or shape them, but to witness them. To stand in awe as their truest self emerges, often in ways we could never have imagined. This is love in its purest form: standing before the sacred, watching it unfold right before our eyes.
There is beauty in the becoming. In the way their voice begins to carry their unique truths. In the way their passions ignite and their gifts take form. In the way their struggles carve wisdom into their hearts. They remind me that the soul’s journey is never linear. It spirals and meanders, teaching us to trust life’s unfolding, even when the way forward feels uncertain.
It is no small thing to behold the sacred dance of a child becoming who they came here to be. It is to witness the Divine at work, molding not perfection but authenticity—a soul flowering in its own time, in its own way.
And though their journey is theirs alone, it transforms us too. Watching their bravery, their light, their fierce tenderness, I am reminded of my own unfolding, of the child I once was and the soul I am still becoming.
From my heart to yours…
To every parent, caregiver, or soul witness—may we remember that we are not here to direct but to hold space. The greatest gift we can offer is our presence, our trust, and our love. Let us honor the sacred privilege of witnessing another soul’s journey, knowing that their unfolding inspires our own.
May you find joy in the miracle of becoming—yours, theirs, and ours. You are part of this sacred rhythm, a thread in the vast tapestry of life. And in your quiet witnessing, you bring light to the sacred dance of the Divine.
With love and reverence,
Laurie
