Welcome to our big world, little one! You are here with every ounce of darlingness imaginable, and only heaven knows the fierceness of the love you’ve evoked in us these past seven weeks of knowing you in person. You were wanted and prayed for and from the moment we knew that you were; that moment when two little pink lines were never such a big deal, when I was so surprised by joy that I could barely squeak out your daddy’s name – you had yourself all tangled up in the deepest parts of our hearts.
There were months of anticipation, waiting, and longing; forty weeks of you nestled under my heart and leaving no question about the fact that you were there and that you lived. As you are today, you have been from day one: wildly, assertively certain of your existence.
I don’t know how to be your mom. Truth be told, I vouched for a boy, because I know the hard work and high maintenance of a beautiful relationship between a mother and daughter, and thinking about you scared me. It still scares me. But after your birth, while you squeaked on my chest, and time stood still while our tears, laughter, coos and exclamations serenaded those first minutes of your life, I’ll never be able to describe the giddy anticipation I felt when we realised we had forgotten to check out your gender after five minutes, or the overwhelming gratitude and sheer elation that welled up inside me as soon as we flipped you over and we knew. Our daughter.
Little girl, I dream big for us. More than french-braiding your hair, baking cookies with you, reading you stories, singing with you, and walking together to the patisserie down the street. I dream of all that and a hundred things more, yes, of meaning the world to you, of being your best friend- but mostly, I dream of giving you glimpses of your Creator. There is nothing now that pulls me down onto my knees more than seeing your big brown eyes stare into mine with all the trust, dependency, and wonder in the world. I dream of you always needing me like that, but I will let you down countless times, so I pray you’ll go deeper. I am deeply flawed. I’ve pursued things that brought repentance but scarring, and I pray you’ll never believe those lies from Satan-the ones that tell you there are deeper pleasures in life than knowing and being known by God. I’ve been well acquainted with the grip of insecurity, teenage obesity, and depression and I pray you’ll never have a doubt in your mind that you are beautiful; that your worth is more precious than gold. I know rebellion and ugly relationships from the inside-out. I don’t know what we’ve got ahead of us, but I pray you’ll aim higher, and I do know this: I will fight for your heart. In a world where being a little girl is defined by ruffles, embarrassing amounts of tulle, tacky glitter, gold amd enough Frozen paraphernalia to make me nauseous, I pray you’ll know the difference. That you’ll know the true grandeur of womanhood, modesty, graceful beauty and charming femininity in ways I could never grasp. I’ve played it easy too often, sacrificing relationship & vulnerability for a safe heart, and I pray for you a wilder imagination and bigger risks.
Jesus. You hear His name a lot these days, whispered in the dark when it’s just you and me, your heavy breathing, wide-awake eyes, and the clock striking midnight. Mostly, I must admit, I pray to Him about please getting more sleep. But I tell Him too all about you, what I dream for you, how my fears blind me, who I hope you’ll become, how much your dad & I need grace on grace for being entrusted with you.
I want Him for you too. But I pray you’ll discover and know Him beautifully in ways I never even brushed the brink of. I pray you’ll go deeper.