The book/devotional I am currently working on is called Ever After (I know super girly, but I love it. I even have Disney Princess wallpaper that rotates every hour on my laptop). The tag line is (work in progress): rediscovering who we were made to be as daughters of the King. (like I said, it’s still a work in progress but it gives you an idea of the focus and direction I’m taking it.) As I’m writing this particular book, I tend to look to my daughters to accurately capture that pre-“the world and all of it’s realities have dashed my innocence”.
Through MOPS and bible studies, I have been (kinda) indirectly encouraged to savor the wonderful ciaos that is motherhood of young children but more than anything, I am recognizing the wonderful trove of wisdom that my sweet girls can teach me.
About a month ago, I journaled a prayer of sorts that I want to share with you guys this week.
Sooo, here you go…
(from July 21 at 11 pm)
Before heading to bed, I walked quietly to each of my daughters’ rooms. I said a prayer over each of them and then stood, humbled and amazed as I watched my oldest sleep. (Yes, all parents watch their children sleep at some point. No, it’s not weird or creepy.)
As I watched her sigh quietly as she dreamed, a tightness formed in my chest. I gazed over her princess night-light, her fantastically pink comforter, and even her pink, ice cream jammies. She is as “girly” as it gets right now. All colors directly relate to a princess (purple=Jasmine or Rapunzel, green=Tiana, blue=Cinderella, yellow=Belle, and so on.) Anyone wearing a dress is considered a princess. Her favorite thing in the world is to dress up in her Cinderella dress and dance around the house, acting out (and quoting line by line) any and all Disney movies (especially the princess movies).
Her wonderful innocence is reflected in the crease-less peace on her face as she continued to dream.
How is it that childhood fantasy is shattered? When? How long before my precious child is thrust into the cruel, unforgiving realities of life? I know that day will come, but for tonight I pray against it. (this is still as true today as it was then)
I pray for the innocense of my child. I pray for her to know peace. Samara means protected by God, and I pray that to be true in her life.
Her Zune player lulls the next song on her playlist and the unassuming, lyrical voice of my husband’s grandmother echos in the hallway. “Sleep my child, sleep. Rest in your Father’s arms.”
I don’t look forward to the day my precious girl no longer runs into my arms, screaming “Mommy! Mommy!” excitedly as she snuggles in close. But I know, just as she will not always believe that everyone wearing a dress is a princess, she will not always seek my arms for comfort. I desperately pray that the words of that song, however, will always be true. That she will rest in her Father’s arms and know (and believe) that she is a princess because her heavenly Father is King.
I pray that you will find encouragement and humbleness in my words. I would love to hear how your children have taught you or how (if your are a student or simply don’t have kids) looking at the world through the eyes of a child can change your perspective and how God can speak to you through that?