To Lexi On Her 9th Birthday

Dear Lexi,

When I saw that picture of us on the back of the camera in September, I nearly lost it right there standing on your school playground.  Who were those strangers?  Who was that little girl and who was that momma hugging her?

I get so heads-down with this parenting thing–making lunches, going to teacher conferences, planning dinners and doing laundry–that I sometimes forget you and I have a relationship.  Just me and you.  Mother and daughter.  And the little girl in that picture looked way older than I remembered the last time we took a picture together.

In that picture, I feel the days slipping like sand.  I want to get my head out of the day to day and really look at you, look at us, and appreciate what’s in front of me.  I’m scared I’ll look at a picture of us 10 years from now and just wonder who that grown girl is in the picture. I don’t want to be so busy with mothering you that I forget to be your mother.

You’re 9 today and I can hardly stand the thought we’re halfway done with our time.  You tell me you don’t want to grow up and I need to find out who to call to stop time for you.  I can’t bear the thought of you not being with me every day.

You’re such a joy.  Such a joy.  Such a frustrating, dramatic, picky, creative joy. 

You’ve come so far this year.  I was worried for a few years there.  You were losing your mind a little lot over the little things and I wasn’t sure how it would turn out.  But let me say, you’ve grown in the most wonderful ways over those years.

I think it’s just you have a little leader heart in there and it was stretching and growing and finding its place.

I watched you during your party this weekend with your friends. You had it all planned out and you followed through.  I watched as you had your friends’ rapt attention in the living room, all of them listening to your direction, raising their hands for a turn to talk. 

You’re going to be wonderful leader one day.  I don’t know if you’ll lead your own littles or be our President.  Yes, I really believe you could.

When I was in middle school, a girl walked up to me in gym class and asked me why I smiled so much, how is it you’re happy so much?  I’ve never been quick on my feet when I talk and was still so shy then.  I must have mumbled something and moved on.  I think about it all the time how I wish I would have told her it was Jesus.  Jesus is the reason I had hope and love and kindness and joy in my heart that let me smile all the time.  I regret so much that I didn’t lead her back to Jesus.

And so I hope for you when you’re leading those people—because you will—you’ll remember to lead them to Jesus.  Have no regrets.  Be bold. Love Jesus.  And help them to do the same.

Happy Birthday, baby girl.

Love,

Mommy