Monday, February 3, 2014

Birthday Promise

Good morning, beautiful girl.

On this morning, four years ago, I heard through exhausted yet anxious tears, that you were safely in this world.  The doctor said your eyes were the widest and you were certainly among the most alert babies he'd ever birthed.  I almost missed your first cry, and the joyous tears that followed, replacing yet running the same tracks as the frightened ones.  

And you started that moment being a kid who God used to help me learn to run over a lot of frightened grooves.  

The first thing you did, once I was through with the whole postpartum depression and anxiety mess, was to show me the need I had to love myself a little.  Not in a selfies every day kind of way... but in a way that shows you it's good to be kind to not just everyone else, but yourself as well.  I remember the exact day I had that revelation.  You were in my arms, I was feeding you.  And I realized it would kill me to hear you talk about yourself and to yourself the way I spoke to and about myself.  

This morning, I had another revelation. 

Fishing off the front porch with your best friend and brother. 

I promise you, with all the witnesses of the internet, that you are not my world. 

I love spending time with you, but you are not my reason to get up every day. 

Your smile and giggle make me smile, but you are not my happiness.  

I love to serve you, to do your hair and clothes, to cart you to dance, and to make your favorite foods and take you to do your favorite things, but I do not live to serve you.

Enjoying the snow you prayed for.  I know you can't see it, but this is central Texas, and it was there. 

I want you to have better than that.  

I want you to see your Mama as dependent on Christ.  

I want you to see me try and succeed.  

I want you to see me try and fail.  

I want you to see me afraid. 

I want you to see me step out, however nervous, and try things I'm afraid of. 

I want you to see me mess up.  Make mistakes.  

Then I want you to see me apologize and do my best to make it right.  

I want you to see me make decisions for our best, not just my best. 

I want you to see your Mama as a fellow human... and more than that, a fellow sinner, rescued over and over and over again by a God who does not ever leave his children behind.  

So, my birthday present to you is this promise to you and your brothers.  I will be honest.  I will be who I am, and I will share my experiences with you.  

When it's time to let you go... to let you spread your wings, test your legs, and try your hand... I will let you go, and I'll be there to talk to, to rejoice with, and to cry beside.  I give you, my amazing daughter, and my amazing sons, the freedom to be who God made you to be.

And I will pray for you. 

Thanks be to God again for letting me hear that first cry, for every day that followed, and for the future he has planned.  

Happy birthday, my sweet girl.  

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