DISCLAIMER:  “When He Solves For X”, a post from last week, was written about the recent decision Jason and I made to change our boys’ preschool.  Nothing else, nothing more.  I apologize to those who incorrectly believed it to be about them for it was very much not at all and I’m sorry for any hurt and confusion this might have caused.  Because I don’t ever use this blog as a forum to vent about anyone EVER, I chose not to specifically state the details of the equation but because I wanted to clear it up for anyone who might be confused, I am sharing the reason for the post.


I walk into her room, still lit at the highest brightness by the lamp with a dimmer on her bedside table.

She looks like an angel.

Features porcelain, so innocent.  The eyelids of a baby bird, small arteries visible over the rolling eyes of deep REM sleep.

My baby girl…

You are stunningly beautiful and it’s the unexpected moments such as these, when I’m walking into your room to simply turn your lamp down a bit, that I’m caught off-guard.  I stop in my tracks because I feel the spirit force me to drink you in, to take a mental snapshot that will remain in my heart even when you are as old as me.

And of course, as you told me at dinner last night, I am indeed old.

You straddle two worlds right now – one of getting older and making friends and first tastes of girl-drama on the playground, the other of playing “Littlest Pet Shop” and pretending to be dogs with your younger brothers who adore you.

And just so you know, as your mother, you have no idea how much I want to keep you in that latter world.  I shudder at the thought of you one day going off to college and watch with a lump in my throat as the parents wearing blank and conflicting expressions move their freshmen babies into their dorm rooms in the college town we call home.

I know this will be a year of great developments for you and trust me, I won’t be a hovercraft.  I will encourage you to make new friends, to become a better reader, to learn how to do hard math problems as you excitedly revealed your desire the other day to do this.

I won’t clip your wings.  I promise.

But I can assure you that there will be moments when I smile and react with excitement at your latest development then quietly need to go to the restroom for just a moment to let the tears break free.

I signed up for this.  Willingly and without regret.  But oh how it hurts to see you, my baby girl,  begin to fly on your own.

On this Multitude Monday, God I thank you for:

561.  A growing girl

562.  My tender mama heart that makes me love them so fiercely

563.  A sweet daughter who feels comfortable to talk to her mama about what is on her heart

564.  A girl who is learning to be a good communicator and wants to try again when she loses self-control

565.  My bi-weekly cleaning lady, Brenda.  You sent her to me, didn’t you?

566.  Brenda’s Old German Baptist beliefs, the long dresses, and the prayer covering she wears over her bun which generates good discussion among my three and acceptance in their hearts

567.  Brenda’s cinnamon bread that my husband craves on a regular basis

568.  A new preschool with a Biblical focus for my boys

569.  The miracle that two spots opened up in said preschool for the exact ages of both of them – a rarity indeed but arranged by Him.

570.  My sister friends – you know who you are.  Thank you.  You carry me.

This week, may you take quick moments and stop if the spirit directs you.  There is probably something He wants you to see.

I’m linking today with Ann for “Multitude Mondays” and Jen for “Soli Deo Gloria Sisterhood”



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