My Not-So-Baby-Girl

Sometimes I have little moments like this . . . 

When I look at my very-growing-up 10+ year old oldest daughter sleeping on the couch so soundly . . .

And I look at her like a mom looks at her newborn baby sleeping so peacefully, loving to just look at her. 

Feeling in my heart like she is a six month old baby. Because . . . to my heart she is a six month old.

When I was looking at my daughter sleeping one afternoon this week, I felt pangs of grief deep in my stomach - beginning to ache for the many years I didn't get to be a part of her life. Of course logically I know why I was not part of her life, but my heart wants to have been there. I am her mom, after all.

This made me think about and re-read a blog post by Katie Davis (Kisses from Katie) last August that I will never forget. 

(An excerpt...)

I want her to be a baby so I can strap her on me and hold her there and she will feel secure and safe and protected. I want to be the person who taught her to write her name and how much fun it is to make mud pies, and I want to be the person who laughed with her when she lost her first tooth. I want to know where the scars came from that she can’t remember the stories about, and I want to be the person who wiped her tears when she fell.

But I know that is not how God intended it.

He did not choose me for those moments, He chose me for these. I entered motherhood through a 

different door, and I get a different kind of stretch marks.

I believe that He held her all the years that I didn’t . . .  I believe that He carried her all the way here to this new family and I believe that His hand is on her still.

I could never say it better than those words say it. That God held my daughter all the years I didn't and carried her to this family . . . 

This extraordinary knowledge is beyond me. It is lofty; I am unable to reach it. Psalm 139:6 (Holman)

It is extremely comforting to know that my heavenly Father knows all of the details of my daughter's life and has had His hand upon her life. 

Twice this week Claire has asked me to come lay with her in bed because she was sad. One night she and shared some heart-breaking things for the first time that happened to her when she was younger. I wrapped my arms all the way around her and snuggled up as close to her as I could as we both cried and cried together. Picturing her as a little girl and thinking about what happened to her then, I could not help but cry out to God and ask how such a small child could bear the weight of such pain. And how can her young heart even process it now? And yes it is wonderful that God has given her two loving parents now. But how does a child process having parents once and then not having them and then having different ones all the way around the world? It is too much for my own soul to try to think about. 

I will never understand these things. But, I find rest in the One who does understand and I know this is the answer: 

He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds. Psalm 147:3 (NIV)

The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit. Psalm 34:18 (NIV)

Jesus, I praise You because you are HEALER. Thank you for binding up the wounds of the brokenhearted. Please continue Your work in our children. Redeem their lives for your glory. 

And thank you, Jesus, for choosing me for these moments of my daughter's life.