Home School Life

My little girl is eleven today. The picture above is one of my favorites, somewhere between 18 months and 2 years, in all of her big brother hand-me-down glory. Below is something a little more recent.

Looking at these two pictures I can’t tell but compare who my daughter was then and who she is now. Has she lived to the potential her eleven years have to offer? Have the budding gifts just beginning to show themselves in those sweet-cheeked baby years sprouted and borne fruit? And most of all, have I done an adequate job of protecting and honoring the gift that is my daughter? Sometimes, yes, but, oh, how I could strive for more.

On each of my children’s birthdays I have reflected on the circumstances of their births — what we were doing, where we were living, what was going on for me, my marriage, my parenting.

My daughter was born during one of the most challenging times of my life. Newly-married, just finishing college, uncertain of my parenting, with a very demanding 3-year-old, many nights I just held my babies close and cried myself to sleep.

Little did I know what a blessing this easy-going, good-natured girl was. She has often borne more than her share of the difficulties in our lives, sacrificing to help us all carry through. Definitely not the squeaky wheel, this girl. But, more than anyone else, she is quietly calling on me to live more consciously and with greater intention. She is searching for her model.

Oh, what a gift this little one is.

Happy Birthday, my girl.