Last week our daughter celebrated a birthday. As often happens when my thoughts run to her, she called. With perfect timing. I had just put the last period on my note to her. Printed with her permission…
Hi, Sweetie, Happy Birthday! I’m thinking about you this morning.
And twenty-nine years ago. You stirred inside me while I climbed upon a chair to oil the kitchen cabinets to a gleam. Nesting, they call it. I sensed you getting ready to push your way into the world. The nursery was all set, and I wanted everything to shine for you, the infant who would reorganize our schedules and my life. Of course, you came on the exact day the doctor said you would. I marked the calendar, “Due Date” because I’m a planner and always on time, so I figured you would be, too.
Though I dreamed of what having a rug rat running around might be like, I never imagined the extent you would change my life…
How you would push aside the adult in me to call “my child” out to play with you.
How you would transform a poised, professional woman to one who would stand in the middle of an office building, cooing and clucking at a wiggling baby with girly pink ribbons in her hair.
How my shy nature would fight for you against unfair teachers or playground bullies. How I would ache to take on all your suffering when you were sick or sad or hurt.
How my heart would swell with love so much I thought it would burst at every milestone and smile you threw my way.
The parenting books failed to mention I would never untie the knots of concern in my stomach about your well-being when you were overdue to arrive home or faced some fearsome challenge. Even after you grew into adulthood and moved to stand on your own. No one warned me how hard it would be to let go when you strained against the bonds of childhood and stubbornly insisted on your way as an adult (wonder where you got that?)
But God knew exactly what I needed when He blessed me with you… A child who would warm the cold in my heart, who would be a “feeler” to my “thinker,” and who would teach me to give when I once yearned to receive.
When you were born, I captured a slice of heaven. A peek at what eternity with the caring Father will be like, and a deeper realization of how much God must love me. Why else would He bless me with such an awesome, priceless treasure as you.
Children are a gift from the Lord; they are a reward from him. Children born to a young man are like arrows in a warrior’s hands. How joyful is the man whose quiver is full of them. (Psalm 127:3-5, NLT)
©2011 Gloria Ashby. Feel free to forward this devotion in its entirety, including this copyright line. Leave comments, ask questions, read past devotions, or subscribe to
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