A few years ago, my wife shared a phrase with me that someone had once passed along to her about the care and nurturing of responsibility:
“Everybody can’t hold the baby.”
At first, it sounded simple—even cute. But she and I both grasped its deeper meaning. Something tender, vulnerable and precious cannot be entrusted to just anyone. A baby—especially one brought into the world by us, personally—is special. Someone without genuine care or attachment is like the woman in Solomon’s court who was willing to have an infant divided in half to settle a dispute over parentage. The true mother recoiled in horror, unable to bear such a thought (1 Kings 3:16-28).
The lesson extends beyond just holding a baby. Not everyone understands what it truly means to care for something precious.
Stewardship is an old word, seldom used but rich with meaning. It speaks to the responsibility of nurturing and safeguarding what has been entrusted to us. Whether it’s flowers, careers or children, stewardship is key. And yet, not everyone can hold the baby.
Last year was one of the most difficult seasons our household has ever faced. It was a year of uncertainty, discovery and walking through a grave health challenge—one my wife bore directly. I will share those details another time, but suffice it to say, we were flooded with questions—both horizontal, directed at doctors and caregivers, and vertical, lifted in prayer to God.
In moments like these, people ask the timeless question: “Why me?”
My wife’s answer?
“Why not me?”
Everybody can’t hold the baby.
Yes, 2024 was a long, arduous year—spiritually, emotionally, physically. Each day was filled with prayer, tears, more prayer and more tears. But now, the results are in. Medically, the news is more wonderful than we could have ever hoped for or imagined. Spiritually, the journey has left me reflective and humbled.
When the doctors told my wife how serious her condition was, she responded, unwavering:
“I serve a big God.”
Me? My prayer was different:
“God, I know You can do it. But will You?”
And now, I think I’m beginning to understand.
Indeed, everybody can’t hold the baby.
A few weeks ago, at our church’s anniversary celebration, my spiritual mentor—a giant of a theologian—prayed a simple yet profound prayer. Eight words that wrecked me, then and now as I write this:
“God, thank You for trusting Gail with suffering.”
That prayer underscored the reality, marked with exclamation points: everybody can’t hold the baby. In this case, the baby was suffering.
If we see life as merely an exercise in avoiding hardship and accumulating blessings, then suffering feels like a punishment. The disciples thought this way when they encountered the man born blind from birth (John 9). But Jesus corrected them—not only opening the man’s blind eyes but their spiritual eyes as well:
“Neither this man nor his parents sinned. This happened so that the works of God might be displayed in him.”
As I reflect on 2024—and even further back to December 2021, when our youngest child died—I find myself asking:
Can I hold the baby?
Can God trust me to endure, so that others might see Him more clearly? Can I truly embrace Paul’s words?
“For Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties.”
To suffer—not as a burden, but as a privilege.
Yes.
Privileged to suffer, indeed.
Categories: Acts17seventeen Christian Christianity Community Follower Of Jesus Hurt Prayer
Pastor Mark
Mark, the eighth of nine children born to Reuben and Henrietta Meeks—dedicated church planters with nearly 30 congregations established across California’s Central Valley—is a preacher's kid who grew up immersed in faith and service. With over forty years of experience teaching, discipling, and ministering to communities, including the hospitalized and incarcerated, Mark responded to God's call to pastoral ministry. He holds degrees in civil engineering and public administration, as well as a Master’s in Theology from Fuller Seminary, equipping him to serve with both practical insight and spiritual depth.
acts17seventeen 
Amen!
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