Cradled

Lying in bed tonight,
waiting for sleep to come,
I am reminded
of all the years of nights
I lay here worrying
about one child
or another.

Asleep in her room,
my spirit would go to her,
cradle her in the darkness
and pray-

God, you have entrusted
these children to me
and it is the greatest honor
of my life,
but this job feels too big for me.
I am overwhelmed and afraid
and I don’t know what to do.

Now that they are grown,
all doing well,
I suppose I needn’t
have worried so much.
It didn’t solve any problems.

But looking back
on those dark and vulnerable nights,
I can see that,
without my knowing it,
God cradled me
while I cradled them.

By Maria Brady-Smith
Photo by Mike Smith