El Shaddai

The apartment was quiet as the sun finished it’s descent into darkness. She stood over a changing table, struggling with the infant that lay atop it. The little boy looked up at his mother and gave a wide toothless smile.

“You’re a good boy,” she said, leaning down to kiss his forehead. He had her dazzling blue eyes and the soft dark hair of his father. She reached for a one-piece sleeper and managed to get him into it without too much trouble. With that, Beth picked up the baby and sat down in the rocking chair by her bed. They’d purchased it shortly after Logan came home from the hospital.

She knew Mick would be up soon and ready to take over watching the baby but Beth wasn’t quite ready to give him up. She gave herself a good push to get the rocker going. Logan gurgled a little bit as he felt the motion flowing through Beth’s body. Beth tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and began to hum a little tune as she rocked her son gently. She was trying to remember the words. It was a lullaby her mother had sung to her when she was little. Even without the words, Logan’s eyes began to droop. Beth couldn’t help but smile as he drifted off to sleep.

“I love you,” she whispered. She was so focused on the child in her arms that she didn’t notice the footsteps outside or the door creak open. She kept humming the tune over again, lulling him to sleep. Finally she recalled the words. She took a breath before starting to sing softly.

“El Shaddai, El Shaddai, El-elyon na Adonai,” she began.

“Age to age You’re still the same, by the power of the name.”

“El Shaddai, El Shaddai, Erkamka na Adonai. We will praise and life You high, El Shaddai,” she finished. Logan gave a sigh of contentment as his mother’s gentle tones drifted through the air.

She continued to gaze down at the infant, even after he’d fallen asleep. She didn’t want to disturb the peacefulness of the moment. Neither did Mick. He just stood in the doorway, watching her with his son. He didn’t know she could sing. Finally, he crossed the threshold and knelt down on the side of the rocker.

“That was pretty,” he complimented. She looked up and blushed.

“It’s just something my mom used to sing to me when I was little,” she murmured.

“I think he likes it,” Mick whispered, running a finger along his son’s cheek.

El Shaddai, El Shaddai

El-elyon na Adonai

El Shaddai, El Shaddai

Erkamka na Adonai