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Monday, August 25, 2014

A Letter to my Daughter

Dear Precious One,

You're beautiful laying there with your hair tossed haphazardly over your lily skin.  Your thick eyelashes brush your cheeks right over the place where God must have come in the night to kiss you, because the smallest hint of glitter rests there as if still reflecting the glory of His love for you.  Your tiny arm--so big compared to what it once was, yet still so small and vulnerable--rests beneath your face and it's all I can do to stop myself from fingering the length of it from your shoulder to your elbow. I don't want to wake you.  Not yet.  There will be a time for an awakening but you needn't experience it yet.

Soon, you will have to rise and face the world.  You will find joy and magic as you always do, and you will find disappointment and heartbreaks too.  Your heart is so tender that to my sorrow it finds the latter easily.  In your little soul the heartbreaks and joys are inseparable because the one follows the other.  The joy of a visit with friends followed by the heartbreak of leaving.  The joy of an hour of play followed by the heartbreak of a nap.  The joy of a special moment with your brother followed by the heartbreak of needing a time out because you are still learning the boundaries necessary to keep him (and you) safe.

This cycle is part of life, dear Sleeping Beauty.  Joy and sorrow intertwine.  They have since sin began and will continue until we're lifted into the Celestial City by our Savior.  But He can carry your sorrows, dear one.  He came for that.  To bear them for you.  To make this difficult walk easier.  Because it only gets more difficult as you grow and innocence is lost little by little.  I want you to keep your innocence, your unscarred beauty, your expectation of only joy and never sorrow--but could you grow if that happened?  Could you become who God intends you to be?  Could you flourish and make a difference in a world filled with sorrow?

You can't stop the pain.  Or the sorrow.  They are an inextricable part of life.  But you can take them to Jesus, dear one, and let Him bring you joy.  Then carry that joy into the world.  I'm learning to do so as well.  I do it so poorly but I'm trying.  Your Daddy is so good at it.  He is better at it than I am.  And your brother--he knows not much of sorrow yet and so he is mostly joy spilling out in rays of sunshine and giggles.  You and he both spill the sunshine like you'd burst if you kept it bottled inside.  Keep carrying the joy in your heart.  And love.  And peace.  Treasure it.  Share it.  Never lose it.  Give God the sorrow.  Let Him carry the burden of the world as He shows you how to share the joy with others.

But for now, just sleep.  In peace.  With the gentle kiss of God on your cheekbone.  He loves you so.  You'll awaken when it's time.  

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