Le­ar­ning that a new baby will be born in­to our home has brought a stran­ge com­bi­na­ti­on of emo­ti­ons: ex­ci­te­ment, ap­p­re­hen­si­on and more. But it most­ly brings won­der. When my wife was car­rying our first child, I wasn’t sure what to ex­pect, and my pri­ma­ry fee­lings were those born of nai­veté: cu­ri­o­si­ty, un­cer­tain­ty and an­ti­ci­pa­ti­on. When our daugh­ter ar­ri­ved, she brought an uns­pe­a­kab­le joy as well as a steep le­ar­ning cur­ve for us pa­rents. She al­so brought a new love—a love like none I’d ever felt be­fo­re.

I didn’t feel it right away, what with all the new­ness and up­he­a­val that a new­born brings. But like wa­ter so­a­king a dry spon­ge, this new love slow­ly per­me­a­ted me to the core, and over the fol­lo­wing months I swel­led with a deep, pri­me­val de­vo­ti­on for this child. I’d hold my daugh­ter and trace her face with my fin­ger­tip, exa­mi­ning her pe­ti­te fe­a­tu­res while trying to coax a flut­te­ring smile from her tiny lips. I’d gent­ly rub my nose ac­ross the soft­ness of her unb­le­mis­hed cheek, ab­sor­bing her new baby es­sen­ce. And I came to know what it felt like to be truly wil­ling to lay down my life for anot­her per­son.

Be­fo­re long, we found out that our se­cond child was on the way. But this time I doub­ted. I doub­ted that I could feel the same way to­ward anot­her child as I felt to­ward the first. My wife and I both come from lar­ge fa­mi­lies, and each of us has had ex­pe­rien­ce with yo­un­ger sib­lings and the joy they bring to the fa­mi­ly. In­tel­lec­tu­al­ly, I knew that pa­rents love all their child­ren and that, of cour­se, I would love the new baby so­me­how. But I qu­es­ti­o­ned whet­her I would truly feel the same deg­ree of at­tach­ment that I felt for my first child. So I doub­ted.

But it was a need­less doubt. If anyt­hing, the love for the first child on­ly made the love for the se­cond grow fas­ter. The soil had al­re­a­dy been til­led. The new seed­ling im­me­di­a­te­ly took root, quick­ly blos­so­med and took its place as an equ­al next to the first.

In the ye­ars sin­ce, five more child­ren have been gi­ven in­to our fa­mi­ly. We have ex­pe­rien­ced how love grows ex­po­nen­ti­al­ly as each mem­ber forms their own bond with the baby. The net­work of re­la­ti­ons­hips bal­loons as each per­son re­lis­hes the new­born’s in­no­cent af­fec­ti­on. New birth brings new won­der, and it re­kind­les our ap­p­re­ci­a­ti­on for God’s mi­rac­le of cre­a­ti­on and how He strengt­hens fa­mi­li­al love.

But I have al­so seen how not eve­ry­o­ne thinks this way. I used to work with a man who had one child, and I on­ce he­ard him tal­king about how he would ne­ver want anot­her. He was a fun-lo­ving and ca­ring man, but when dis­cus­sing fa­mi­ly size, he went so far as to say, “If you ever hear about me ha­ving anot­her kid, I want you to take me out in­to the par­king lot and shoot me in the head.” I was ta­ken aback, and couldn’t think of a way to res­pond. But my ini­ti­al shock was soon rep­la­ced with pity for his blind­ness. He couldn’t see the be­au­ty and strength that spring from a gro­wing web of fa­mi­li­al re­la­ti­ons­hips.

Many be­lie­vers have big fa­mi­lies; ho­we­ver, some Chris­ti­an fa­mi­lies are com­pa­ra­ti­ve­ly small. But even the be­lie­vers who have not been bles­sed with child­ren, or who have few, can ap­p­re­ci­a­te the be­ne­fits and bles­sings they bring. For me, my co­wor­ker’s com­ment high­lights how rare and pre­ci­ous the love in a be­lie­ving home is. Our child­ren ser­ve as re­min­ders of how Je­sus taught that the king­dom of he­a­ven is a king­dom of child­ren.

Life is of­ten far from per­fect, even in a Chris­ti­an home. But be­cau­se of God’s grace and the love He ins­pi­res, and des­pi­te our in­na­te cor­rup­ti­on, our fa­mi­ly has been ab­le to know a se­cu­ri­ty and joy that are bey­ond comp­re­hen­si­on. And if God bles­ses us with ad­di­ti­o­nal yo­ung ones, I pray that He will con­ti­nue to send the same love and care that He has pro­vi­ded thus far.