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Eastyn McKenzie

Eastyn McKenzie

I dreamed once that in childbirth I held out my arms and my hands brushed God’s as I was given my child. No words to express the act of faith and trust that act implied. He gave me the child. . . . Or the power of the feeling that I was briefly in His presence.

I’ve always felt that babies are so much more attuned to God, to the very essence of people . . . to the ethereal connection that we so long for on this plane. And as they learn hunger for the first time and discomfort; as they strive to control their bodies in simple motor control, we trade off, as parents and teachers, that which is ethereal and intuitive for the tangible. The physical.

Ironically, it is an act of the physical that reminds me of what I am missing: holding a baby brings back that feeling of being near God for me. Feeling again the warmth of His smile, the peace that comes with knowing Him.

Happy Birthday, Eastyn McKenzie. We’re so glad you’ve come.