Now I lay me down to sleep,
I pray that I don’t hear a peep.
If he should cry before I wake,
I pray the Lord no soul I take.
The baby sleeps in the other room,
The house is quiet as a tomb.
In our bed, we finally plop,
We thought the crying would never stop.
We have a pair of great degrees,
We thought that this would be a breeze.
But ever since the baby crowned,
We feel a bit as if we drowned.
The things we said we’d never do,
Have become ritual tried and true.
We’ve never had less control,
While trying to parent this little soul.
When we are tempted to despair,
And there is spit up everywhere,
We must recall what God has planned,
And even difficulty is from His hand.
To the Lord we have turned,
And to His Word for lessons learned.
Upon Christ, we must depend,
He’s our only guide and friend.
Though the dirty clothes are piled,
We are stewards of this child.
Through our weakness, we can see,
How Christ works through you and me.
He uses us to shape and mold,
While refining us like gold.
As we instruct this tender heart,
He teaches us lessons that won’t depart.
Though the nights are long and trying,
And we often feel like crying,
We are thankful for this baby,
And one day, we will get some sleep. Well…maybe.