It’s beautiful here. You’ll be wide-eyed and amazed. This life will take your breath away.
It’s terrifying here. You’re going to be perplexed at the paradox of it all. This life will take your breath away.
I hope and pray with all my heart, that you get captured by the beauty of who God is, that you see Him in the breathtaking wonder of living on this planet – in the majesty of our earth, in the moments that blow you away with joy and amazement. I know there will be many of those, for your innocent heart is just fertile ground, and God delights in giving them and in watching us partake.
You will be appalled at the darkness a human heart can hold. You will cry many tears of sadness for the depravity of life. You will mourn for the sorrow of those around you and the brokenness of this world that is not our final home. I shudder to think of it – but you will be hurt. You will land on your bed in tears and heartbreak. I hate that it is true. I hate that there are people who will hurt you. I hate that you will feel anger, fear, sorrow.
Yet I have prayed for you, and will continue to until the day I die. I have prayed that you will find Him there in every single moment of darkness, pain, heartache. That you will experience the truth that He will never leave you – not even for a moment. I pray with all my heart that you will choose Him, say yes to Him, and walk closely with Him all the days of your life.
I can’t wait to share this wild journey of life with you, and your daddy.
I can’t wait to snuggle you up in my arms and kiss your tiny face – to see you smile at me for the first time, hear your first words, watch you take your first steps.
I can’t wait to watch your eyes light up when you see the twinkling, dazzling lights of a Christmas tree for the first time.
I can’t wait for you to feel the spring air on your nose and the breeze rustling your baby curls while your tiny hand grasps wildflowers and you furrow your brow in examining their small beauty.
I can’t wait to giggle with you in the summer sun with your mouth and fingers colored sticky with Popsicle stain.
I can’t wait to bundle you up in a fluffy coat and watch the wonder on your face as you see the trees on fire with orange, yellow, red – and rake up a crunchy pile while you throw them in the air.
I can’t wait to learn your personality and to watch you discover your gifts and talents, and run with them.
I can’t wait to hold you while you cry – for reasons I don’t know, and for reasons I do.
I can’t wait to put band aids on the knee you skinned because you went just a little too fast on that bike, or a little too high in that tree.
I can’t wait for you to experience the ocean – feel the sand in your toes, touch the saltwater waves as I hold you in my arms.
I can’t wait for the day you sit at our kitchen table, frustrated with your homework, and I get the privilege of being the one to help.
I can’t wait to sit on your bed and listen while you tell me all about your boy problems, and I get to be your listening ear, your shoulder to cry on, your counselor, your mom.
I can’t wait to watch you blossom into the beautiful, intelligent, brilliant, wonderful woman you will become.
And in between all these extraordinary moments, are the ordinary ones.
The hard ones.
The messy ones.
The moments where you won’t stop crying.
The moments where you will not let me or your daddy sleep for weeks, even months on end.
The moments where you, or all of us, will get sick.
The moments where you will make a mess of your sheets and the car and the carpet.
The moments where you will throw a fit in the middle of the store.
The moments where you will be rude, angry, selfish, and we will have to discipline you.
The moments where misunderstanding and miscommunication will cause tension in our home, and your teenage years will bring a whole other set of hardships.
Baby girl, these messy moments – I am privileged to have, with you.
There so many dreams I have for you, but even more than that – and they go far beyond my dreams – there are so many dreams God has for you. He has written your story before you were even a thought, and once you’re here, you’ll get to live that story as he writes it in real time.
There are so many things you will do and places you will go. You will build rich relationships with people in, and out, of your circle. You will accomplish small goals and big ones. You will dream and step out in faith to make those dreams happen. You will hear God’s voice, know Him intimately, and obey Him as He guides you every step of the way. You will cling to Him when you can’t see the path in front of you, and as a good and faithful shepherd, he will always lead you right on out. You will know down-in-the-bones sadness – and bubbling, running over joy.
You will experience the paradox that is the beauty of this life and the shadow that it is not our home.
I can hardly believe I get the gift of you, baby girl. How on earth do I deserve you? All I know is, it is an honor to be your mother. What a privilege to have been given you – all that you are – 100%, fully, extraordinarily, you. I am honored to have been chosen to raise you up into all you are called to be.
See you in 18 weeks, precious girl. You’re going to love it here. Mama loves you so much.