Friday, January 7, 2011
It has taken me quite a while to make myself write this post. I've been wanting to do it, but couldn't quite get a grip on my emotions. So I just stalled writing any posts, period. Then I couldn't make my blog work. Every year, it will probably get a little harder...maybe not. Maybe I'll be a better Mommy next year and not begrudge my baby girl, her growing-up-ness (yep...i know it's not a word).
Christmas morning 2001, this sweet child made me a mommy. And I loved her more than life itself. When I brought her home and sat on my couch and held her, I wept. As odd as it sounds, during that joyful moment, I remember crying for all those people who would not get to experience what I was experiencing.
I prayed for her constantly. I would lay my hands on her sweet head every night before falling asleep, begging God to keep her safe. I would hover over her during those prayers and list the things that I wanted God to keep her safe from, as though He didn't love her more than I myself did. I trust Him more now. I understand better now, how she is His. How He has only allowed me to keep her during our stay here.
Perhaps the hardest thing for me to understand about my sweet child, is her inability to convey her feelings. I NEVER know what's going on in that pretty head. She bottles her thoughts and emotions up. They occasionally spill out when she's tired, but for the most part, I'm left guessing. When I sense great turmoil, I have to practically force her to open up. But for the most part, I try to leave her be, because she treasures peace and privacy.
Perhaps it is because of this, that she is the child who most often brings me to tears. Not sad tears. Happy ones. Because I so rarely know her inner thoughts, and because I so desire to, whenever she sings or dances or tells me what she thinks, as simple as these things sound, I struggle to keep myself intact and often just watch her with tears flowing down my face.
She has scared me more deeply than anyone has ever scared me before. Her medical run-ins have torn me apart and left me with the stark realization that I can never keep her safe. She belongs to God. I know that she does. He has claimed her as His own and I treasure this knowledge. He convicts her so strongly. She is very aware of her sins and faithfully confesses them to God after she comes crying about them to Stephen or I. She understands the good news and is perplexed why the whole world does not believe.
I love her girlhood, and I'm not really mourning her growing up. I know that every stage she goes through, I have loved more than the last. I am so grateful that she still plays with dolls, and is still very silly. I love that she still dresses up and puts on plays. She loves to craft and read more than anything. That her deepest most sacred secrets are about planning anonymous valentines. Her brother is her best friend. It's wonderful that she still has these little girl traits. I just feel like I don't have enough time to do all of the things I want to do with her.
But I do so want her to grow and be healthy. I want her to know God more intimately and be amazed. I want her to be a happy tween then teenager, without being bogged down by all the burdens that come with that age. I want her to marry someone as wonderful as her father. And I want her to have a baby one day who will show her how much I have always loved her.
Happy 9th birthday to my precious Lucy. You are an incredible girl and I'm overjoyed to be your Mommy.