From her long and lean frame, one would never know she was a whopping 5 lbs 4 oz at birth. Or that my pregnancy with her was riddled with problems. Those 9 months showed me how I can make my plans, but anything I make is fragile at best. It’s only when I place those fragile plans in the strong, capable hands of the Creator that they’re protected and safe. I want to grip my plans with clenched fists. It’s stinkin’ hard but wholly necessary for me to turn those fists over and open my palms so I might exchange my plans for His, receiving His best for me.
It’s a daily dying I must do in raising this girl, too. Saying no to my plans for her and yes to His.
Today, this ball of sunshine turns 8. EIGHT. And that means she is officially closer to 10 with all its double digit-ness than she is to 5. It’s bittersweet for me.
Pretty soon she’ll unwrap her gifties, a combo of her personality. She’ll unwrap new summer clothes with matching doll dresses along with her very own nerf gun in deceptive girly butterfly paper. I’ll unwrap more memories in a bout of looking-back-remember-when’s as well as warm fuzzied happiness over the confident, sweet-yet-spirited young lady she’s becoming.
Happy 8th Birthday to my fresh-faced, angel-kissed, wide-eyed, tender-hearted joy giver! If our family was a sundae, you would forever be the cherry on top.
I love you.