Tuesday, February 9, 2010


I think this evening will be one of those moments in my life that I will look back on with perfect clarity and exclaim "THAT was the moment I first felt like a parent."  I fully expect there to be more moments like this, and I imagine I've probably exclaimed this to myself before (i.e. birthing said child, caring for said child during sickness, etc).  What resounds to me most, however...is that tonight I feel some cosmic shift happening in the lives of me, my husband, and my daughter.  

Before tonight, I now realize, I was mostly caring for the basic needs of my child, as any parent does.  I keep her well-fed, clothed, take care of her when she's sick, make sure she's prepared for school in the mornings.  I love her deeply, and I know she feels it.  

Her needs are changing.

We've gotten to a point in parenting where it is our job to cultivate.  We've prepped the soil as best we could, laying a good foundation for out little seedling to take root...praying feverishly for strong, straight roots.  Tonight was our first glimpse into the enemy forces aimed directly at our little one.  We are wrought with the desire to protect this thing we've been given, this lovely creature of innocence; be we also know the damage that comes to a sheltered child.  

So...how do you teach a child, namely a girl, to know she's beautiful?  I can whisper it into her flowing, downy hair all day long, but will she hear me?  What is it about girls, women, that need to hear this from others?   How do I make her understand that regardless of what other people may say, she is a unique creation, stitched together by the Almighty Himself for no other reason than to know that she is loved, and that she is to love;  that she is worth more than the sum of her parts.  

It is true what they say:  having a child is making the decision to have your heart go walking around outside of your body.