Here’s “God Loves You, Isaiah”, in full.

This Book Belongs To Isaiah

For Isaiah — may you always know how deeply, wonderfully loved you are. With all our hearts, Mom & Dad

Isaiah runs with arms flung wide, the whole big world just steps outside. His laugh rings out, his eyes are bright— God's own beloved, made just right.

Each morning when the sun climbs high, Isaiah waves up to the sky. "Good morning, God!" he likes to say, and God smiles down and says, "Good day."

He grips his backhoe, yellow bright, and digs a hole with all his might. "I'm building something great," he grins— God loves the boy that he begins.

Isaiah's small, that much is true, but small hearts still know what to do. "I may not be the biggest one, but I am loved beneath the sun."

Then wide and far the meadow spreads, past golden hills and treetop heads,

and there Isaiah stands so small, yet held by love that holds it all.

A puddle deep, a muddy patch— Isaiah pauses, finds his match. He hops right in with one big leap; God's love is his to always keep.

His backhoe scoops the sand and stone, he's never really on his own. Wherever far Isaiah roams, God's steady love is always home.

Sometimes he's loud, and sometimes shy, sometimes he cries and wonders why. But every version, every day, God loves Isaiah, come what may.

At supper time the family sits, with giggles, spilled peas, happy bits. Mom, Dad, and Isaiah hold hands tight— thankful hearts before goodnight.

He may not read the biggest book, or build the tallest tower's nook, but every small and simple part is loved completely, from the start.

A friend falls down along the way, Isaiah stops — he doesn't play. He lends a hand and pulls him near— that's love in action, bright and clear.

His little sister toddles fast, Isaiah scoops her up at last. "I've got you, Sis," he says with pride— big love for one who's by his side.

At Grandma's porch, the swing creaks slow, Isaiah watches fireflies glow. "This is my favorite place," he beams— right in the middle of good, warm dreams.

He's not the fastest, not the best, he's just Isaiah, and that's blessed. For God don't measure worth in speed— He measures hearts, and that's indeed.

So Isaiah stands up nice and tall, he knows he's loved, he knows it all. Whatever comes, wherever he goes, God's steady love forever grows.

They build a fort of blankets tall, Isaiah, sister, blanket wall. Together laughing, safe and near— God's love is close, and always here.

He spins around, arms open wide, with joy he simply cannot hide. "I'm loved!" he shouts up to the blue, and heaven shouts, "Yes, it is true!"

He thinks about his busy day— the dirt, the swing, the game, the play. And through it all, one thing stayed true: God's love was there in all he'd do.

Tomorrow holds a brand-new site, more hills to dig, more things to find. Isaiah knows, wherever he roams, God's steady love will lead him home.

The sky turns pink, the day grows still, the crickets hum past Grandma's hill. Isaiah yawns, his eyelids fall— God's watching over one and all.

So close your eyes, Isaiah dear, there's nothing in this world to fear. "For God so loved the world," it's true— and that means He loves you. (inspired by John 3:16)