I’d been happy. I’d been blessed. But I’d never felt the
kind of joy I felt when I found out I was having you.
not to be able to make the pain go away. But you grew into the sweetest little
cherub, with rosy cheeks and golden hair that bounced with curls.
horrible, awful, Teletubbies but we bought you every single one.
special that God had breathed into your soul. I remember walking into your
bedroom late at night, you were only about three.
because she lost her mommy and daddy and she lives with her grandma. And now
her grandma is sick. God said I should pray for this little girl. Will you pray
with me?”
little girl not to be scared and for God to take good care of her. I believe He
did.
came in. A man was having a heart attack, but you didn’t know that. You only
said, “Mama, we should pray for him.” And you got up from the table. Your
boldness and courage inspired and convicted me.
never ceases to amaze me. While, I’m not unaware of your flaws and
imperfections—as we are not perfect people—I marvel at the good choices you
make. I thank God every day that you are not like your mama at that age. And I
know it must only be the grace of God as I am an imperfect mama.
homemade goods. I never monogrammed a single dress you wore, or designed your
room like a magazine. I wasn’t your room-mom or even crafty. I am still
not. I never read a book on parenting. I make mistakes and you always show me grace and forgiveness.
want to hang out in my room, on my bed, watching old movies and talking about
boys and the drama at school. I love that you feel able to ask me questions
about anything, and I am always honest and I never judge. And you never judge me. I love that you want “girl” nights/times/days. Not for what I can buy you but because you love spending time with me. I love that we laugh until you puke and I pee my pants. And then we laugh over that. We laugh and make jokes and even go to self defense classes together! I love our whispers late at night. I love sittin in the back of the van with the hatch open, looking at the stars and getting eaten by mosquitos while we talk about boys, God, our dreams and hopes. Our fears. And how ridiculous boy bands are. I have loved taking you to see the Cheetah Girls, and Justin Beiber back when he was actually cool. I love that I can make fun of you for it now. And you make fun of my Vampire Diaries obsession.
your best friend. I love everything about you, and I would never change a
single thing.
no voice, you are their voice. While I don’t always agree with your methods, I
love that you feel compelled to fight and defend. You express your mind and you
can articulate it in a clear and concise manner. You’re responsible. You’re a
leader. You’re a world changer. You’re called and designed for a purpose that
only you can fulfill.
who is your beloved.
mine, too.

















