Hey you, who I love, let me tell you a story …
a love story,
your story.
The thing is, I have held on to it, as though it is my story, and mine alone.
Then, in the middle of the night, like a whisper that screams loudly into one’s heart,
I knew that I had to give it back to you.
That you needed to hear it, with your heart.
That you needed to own it, possess it,
as your own.
It is the story of you.
The dream you were, the battles fought for your presence in our life, this life, your life.
The sadness, the sorrow, the struggles that came before you …
those heartaches that led us to you.
I recalled our first awareness of your presence, our excitement, hope and fears.
I shared that almost right after that, shadows fell,
the fight was on!
We fought, I fought,
YOU fought.
From the moment you had a physical presence your determination and perseverance were already obvious.
Then, on your very first birthday, you were born, silent and still. No rosy cheeks, no loud warrior cries.
We thought this was the end of your beginning.
But, you are a fierce force and your cries rose to fill the room, our hearts.
Your pre-birth struggle to live, your first year of adjusting to life on the outside …
those were the building blocks of your greatest strengths.
You have, from a young age, had an uncanny ability to feel the sadness in others, to see people only through the lens of human, to comfort and fight for those who cannot do so themselves.
You offer gentleness to others.
Now I ask you to apply that gentleness to yourself. That you fight for you. That you see yourself only through the lens of being human.
Remember that you were and are, a highly anticipated gift, that you have so much to offer this world, that today is just one day, but “tomorrow is always fresh” (LMM).
The Lord bless you
and keep you;
the Lord make his face shine on you
and be gracious to you;
the Lord turn his face toward you
and give you peace.
It occurred to me recently that we tell our children their stories when they are littles, curled up in the safety of our laps, but maybe … just maybe, they need to hear their stories even more when they are grown, but still in need of the security and encouragement of their own coming into existence. Maybe a glimpse of their past will give strength for their future. Or, as fellow blogger, Carolyn Collar, says, maybe “God can help us find new meanings to old stories.“
itsawonderfilledlife 