“Love her but leave her wild.” Atticus
To my daughters,
I never imagined doing life so close and intensely with two other girls; two girls who came from my womb, whose hearts grew and beat inside me, who fed from my very body and face life, daily, right in front of my eyes.
I never imagined loving two emerging women so fiercely and at times so fearfully. Your beauty and grace exude you; your spirits are strong, as is your will. That can be hard at times.
And I have so much to say, so much I want to tell you, so much I want to pass on – from my frailties and imperfections. Not that I expect you to be perfect but I long for you to live, to be authentic you, to be free; even though you look a little bit like me.
You are incredibly unique; there really is no one like you – not just in a snowflake, fingerprint way, but in a womb dwelling, heart swelling display. There’s a place for you in the caverns of my soul that was created before the beginning of time. I was made for you and you for me. The web of your design so intrinsically connects with the threads of my twine. You so delicate, I so strong – inseparable, in harmony like a perfectly crafted song.
I see a woman in your eyes; your voluminous childhood voice gives me a choice to tame, shame and extinguish, or I can love and guide and blow upon the embers of passion, life and liberty in your song. I refuse to quash – I choose to wash over you with words of encouragement, inspiration and light.
And here you are living in the midst of a social explosion; a connection erosion through scrolling screens and vicious teens and my inmost being wants to drag back in, like a near dead body on a front line battle, the clear and the combined and coherent process of living again. Guard your hearts dear daughters from the pressure of Pinterest perfection which leaves authentic being as just mere inflection; which leaves girls like you (and me) in a sea of correction and rejection. Lift up your eyes and see your King; the One who knitted your inquisitive soul and made you whole.
He is the mirror we hang on our wall and stare into timelessly until we no longer feel small.
See the detail in the day; His splendour on display – let your senses come alive, breath deeply daughter – thrive!
You see I could come at you with wisdom and lived advice but in the end that’s like rolling a dice; you can choose to walk my way and follow patterns of my life – I can guide you into motherhood and inspire you as a wife. But I’m compelled to show you Jesus through every season of your days so when success or favour crowns you it’s to Him we give our praise. Or when darker days are heavy like grey clouds on the horizon – I’ll teach you to kneel, and look up; there’s always a glimmer of light about to break through; a peace that helps us wisen.
My daughters you need to know it’s by grace I daily mother your souls and I get it wrong so often; I pray with every fallen word your forgiving hearts will soften.
My dependence upon Him ties me to you and to what your future holds and I guess what we’ll watch unfold. But in these days ahead I’ll love you lavishly and liberally, unhindered in peeling back the surface of your pleasing, precious, present and imperfect life.
I love you.
This is an excerpt from my Kindle book ‘Moments On Mothering’; you can purchase the whole book here – enjoy!