As I write this, Judah is fast asleep, his chest rising and falling with the serene rhythm that only babies possess. It’s in these quiet moments of pause that I find the space to reflect on the time past since he entered our lives—a period marked as much by his growth as by the deepening of our family.
Four months ago, Judah roared into our world, his first cries presenting a profound, if unspoken, promise of change. In the weeks that followed, each smile and each curious gaze at the world around him seemed to soften the most rigid corners of our daily lives, illuminating our routine with the gentle light of new perspectives.
From the living room floor to the soft rugs once solely occupied by our dog, Dacks, Judah has begun to explore the realms of his tiny kingdom. With each passing day, his interactions with Dacks grow, painting a picture of a budding friendship, of silent pacts formed between baby and dog, watched over by us, his endlessly fascinated parents.
His growth is not just in the inches he adds or the milestones he reaches—captured not by the number of pictures we take but by the quiet accumulation of moments that fill the frames of our daily life. His favorite lion, a constant in his expanding world, often lies beside him, a guardian in his dreams and companion in his play. This stuffed sentinel, much like its namesake, the Lion of Judah, represents strength and courage that Judah himself is only beginning to grow into.
In the quiet, reflective hours, as I watch over him and think back on the photographs we’ve taken, I am struck by the revelations they bring. Each image is a reminder of the rapid passage of time, a prompt to cherish the now—a now that is as fleeting as it is precious.
This period of early parenthood is teaching me the quiet strength found in gentle moments. It’s showing me how the softest touches often leave the deepest impressions and how the smallest of roars can echo with the might of a lion.
Westerman.Blog 