reality + daughter = a pile of used tissues

My daughter is growing up… this may not be a flash of reality for you, but tonight it is for me.

She comprehends complex thoughts… and for the first time, I don’t know all the answers to her questions.

She is able to articulate her deep feelings when she is upset or worried. When I see her choosing to develop that skill, I just go, “wow…”.

She is so quick to want to please me, that it breaks my heart sometimes. I don’t know how to get her to understand that I love her just because she is my daughter, not because she does something “the right way”.

“Mommy”, she asked me, with her precious face tilted upward, “Why do you want everything to be perfect?” Her question shot like a dagger into my heart, because all my life, that’s what I try to be.

Perfect.

The perfect outfit, the perfect wife, the perfect friend, the perfect youth leader, finding the perfect decoration for my house and placing it “just so”, God help me, the list goes on and on… I knelt down and held her face between my hands and told her that I don’t want her to be perfect…

I want my daughter to be real. To feel deep emotion, but not to be held captive to emotion. To be level-headed, but also live with abandon. To care more about what her Heavenly Father says, than what others say.

I want to extract a promise from God that she will never feel pain, and yet, before the words can cross my lips, I know, she will experience pain… and that –

breaks
my
heart.

And then my Heavenly Father reminds me of His promise that He will never leave her… And that He loves her more than Brent and I do… Although, honestly, my human heart finds that hard to comprehend.

I love when she looks at me with her wide grin and sparkling eyes! I love that she is a princess… a twirling tornado of pink. If you’ve ever seen her room, you know what I mean by tornado. “But Mom”, she told me tonight, “You taught me how to be messy”.

ouch.

I see her begin to have moments of quiet introspection. When I look in my rear view mirror and see her face turned toward the window, I wonder what she is thinking about. Sometimes I ask, and sometimes, I just watch…

She has such a sensitive heart toward other people. As her mommy, I understand that when you have the capacity to love and care deeply, you also have the capacity for people to hurt your heart deeply… I hate that I can’t protect her from that.

When she was in my womb, God showed me part of the plan for her life. And I know that, without a shadow of a doubt, this is why God named her Jaci Starr, which means “Beautiful Star”.

Stars shine in the black of night…

My daughter is growing, and therefore our play is different. I can’t swoop her up into my arms anymore, like I used to. Sometimes I see her eyes fill with longing, when she sees me do that with her brother. I’m learning too, right along with her… “We’ll figure it out”, I want to tell her… I don’t know how to say the words, so I just kneel on the floor and squeeze her tight. This growing girl, still with little girl needs…

Tonight while we were reading a story, she said, (blinking back the tears) “Mommy, sometimes it feels like you love Zachary more than me". I know this hasn’t been a normal week with Brent gone. I know all 3 of us have hearts that are a bit more tender than usual. This dear one, whose primary love language is Quality Time… is really missing her daddy… I assured her that in our family, we all love each other the same. I gathered her close, and finished the story.

This week I saw a new tilt and shake to her head when she giggles and is a little embarrassed or unsure about something… I wonder what little things will make her, her. Those little nuances she’s developing as she grows. That certain look, the tilt in her head, her smile…Those things, that if she has a child, I will say to this child, “That looks just like your mommy!”

I hurt her the other day. I knew it immediately, and pulled her close and said I was so sorry. She is an example to me of ready forgiveness. When I see how quickly she forgives, I hear my Father tell me, “Look, that’s how I want you to be”.

Unfortunately, about a half hour later, I hurt my little guy too, and gently asked him for forgiveness. Her quivery voice came from the couch… “Mommy, when you tell us you’re sorry, the kind way you do it, just makes me want to cry”. When she told me that, I was the one blinking back the tears…

A couple weeks ago I told her she had a special song I sang to her when she was a baby. She thought that was so cool and wanted to hear it, so I sang it to her a couple of times.

This week… “Sing my special song to me again, Mom”. I choked back a sob as I sang it to her, wondering if it was the last time. This very special song that I used to sing when I nursed her. Those moments I sat and and time stood still. Raw emotion would flood my heart as I looked at our precious gift. I remember just wanting to absorb every little detail in her face.

But, somehow, I didn’t hold my gaze long enough. I blinked – and now she’s 7.

I cry out, “I don’t know how to take care of this precious gift You gave me. When she was born, I was afraid I would drop her. Now I’m afraid I’ll drop her heart”. And then I hear my Father say, “I don’t want perfection…”

My heart is raw tonight…
I have a pile of used tissues beside me…
and it’s 3:00am.

I know this wasn't written perfectly, but I don't care.

I’m missing my husband… the one who holds my heart. If there is a man in our daughter’s future, my constant prayer is that she is as blessed as I…

and may we always be her soft place to fall…

“Jaci’s Song”
You’re my baby, you’re my little Jaci,
You’re my sweet little girl.
You make me laugh,You make me smile.
I love you, I love you,I love you, child.
You’re my baby, you’re my little Jaci,
You’re my “Beautiful Star”.