Dear Arden,
Can we believe it's been almost six years since you were re-making me into a mother? And now you are the big girl helping to make smooth the arrival of the third born.
When Jack came along, you were not yet two years old. You practiced with a baby doll, but did not understand the change your brother brought to our lives. He was so needy, and so were you, in many ways. There were times I pushed you away, out of exhaustion, out of frustration, out of a desperate need for you to not wake the baby. And you cried on the other side of the door, and I cried looking at you shut out and wondered how I could ever make it up to you. There were times you needed me, and I wasn't there. Days and nights I had nothing left to give. And I prayed for grace to fill the gaps I could not stretch to bridge.
I wonder sometimes, did you hold it against me? Is there something in you, even now, that cries out against the voice I raised, the arms I stretched to shoo you away? I wish there had been two of me, or more of me, and I could have rocked you both to sleep.
But now, my darling, you are nearly six, and thrilled at the prospect of this new baby - though prospect and reality will soon clash, I'm sure. You sing to the little life, say "good morning baby" and "I love you baby," and you are brimming with ideas for its care and keeping.
What's more, you have been taking care of me. You see my growing tiredness, and are quick to come to my aid. You have prepared bed and couch for my rest, complete with all the little things you think I may need - books and pens and a glass of water and carefully turned down blanket. (You know me well.) Your generosity has left me humbled, delighted. Just where this kindness has come from, I do not know.
I have done my best to love and care for you, but I know I have fallen short. I know I am no shining example some days. I can only hope the light of Love, that I reflect imperfectly, is warming the places I cannot reach.
Arden - your name means eager, shining, ardent one. I have prayed your name over and over, as thanksgiving, as blessing, as petition. There have been times I have dampened your spirit and snuffed out your flame when I should have coaxed it into life. Nevertheless, six years on, you are shining bright. The flame is in your eyes and in your kindnesses and in the way you show what love is made of. And you will kindle fires wherever you go. You are already warming our family. You are already making us laugh in your light. You are already bringing something more than I alone have given. This is grace, and wonder, and joy, that love can expand beyond the kindling we offer.
You were the first to make me a mother, and in your forge I have been reshaped. You will keep shaping me even as I shape you. Oh, we will rub each other the wrong way, but let us keep close for all that. Let us keep learning love together. The sparks may fly upward, but a greater flame shall warm us.
Now, as our lives are about to shift once more, and we must make room for another, remember this - when my hands are full you are still and always welcome in my heart.
~lg
Showing posts with label Letters to Arden. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Letters to Arden. Show all posts
Tuesday, 1 March 2016
Thursday, 16 May 2013
Letters to Arden: The Eve of Three
On a spring evening in May the lawn tractor’s rumble
disturbs the placid village scene. It’s Daddy-O on his vintage Bolens, with Arden
along for the ride.
Arden, about to be three tomorrow. Have you reached this
eve already?
I step out onto the back porch and it’s all slanting golden
light and fresh cut grass, and the two of you are in your own little world. You
are in your pink spring coat and your “jelly bean” rubber boots, and you are
singing a song at the top of your lungs! I can’t hear you over the rumble, and
I suppose that’s why it’s so much fun.
Daddy waves, the other arm holding you over the bumps, and you wave too
in a careless sort of way, smiling through your boisterous song.
On the eve of three, there is an eager wonder about your
days.
On the eve of three, you want to know whether the
caterpillar we saw yesterday has made its cocoon and got its big wings yet.
You want to know if it’s windy enough to fly the kite.
You want to know if our neighbour is home from school yet
so you can play with her.
You want to know what day it is because you know that Friday is your birthday, and you
concentrate on holding up just three fingers to show me how old you will be.
On the eve of three, the whole world is opening up before
you.
Apple blossoms and adventures in the woods!
Bicycles! Birthday parties!
Counting chicken eggs and chasing bubbles on the breeze!
Every little thing is a big thing, just like this tractor
ride.
Tonight you are queen of the back yard, and with one of
Daddy’s arms around you, you are ready for whatever tomorrow brings. And we will
welcome Three together with the morning sun, but right now I’m just standing
here taking you in, both arms full of the eve of three.
~lg
Wednesday, 20 March 2013
Letters to Arden - March 20, 2013
Dear Arden,
Today is the first day of spring! You wouldn’t know to
look at it though – it’s a real snowstorm outside. All the world is wintery
white, and so we are staying home and staying warm today. I know you’ve been
waiting for spring, and that’s what makes March so hard! March can never make
up its mind. But it will come, and it will be warm, and it will make you so
happy! There’s nothing so amazing as seeing the world burst into life again.
Easter is coming soon too, and so for our little Bible story
time this morning, I pulled out a simple picture book of the Easter story. You
sat beside me on the couch, and Jack sat on the floor, absorbed in a basket of
toys. I told you about the pictures – Jesus riding a donkey into Jerusalem, and
all the people waving branches and shouting “Hosanna!” You looked at me
sideways, like I was being silly, but Jack liked that part, and turned from his
toys to wave his little hands back at us. I told you about the supper Jesus had
with his friends, and how he went to a garden to pray. I told you about the
mean men who took Jesus and made him carry a cross.
“That’s Jesus,
Mommy,” you said, pointing to the man carrying the cross. And then we turned
the page.
“Jesus died,” I said quietly. You looked at me,
leaned closer and put your hand on my arm.
You know who Jesus is. We sing “Jesus Loves Me” almost every day. You know what died means. Our cat, Scratchy, died last fall and we buried her in the ground. You know somehow, instinctively, that these two things should not go together.
I said it again, and showed you the grave where they put Jesus’ body. You were quiet. You were sad. You were unsure. Oh, little girl, you wouldn’t know it to look at it, but the best part of the story is on its way.
We turned the page again, this time to a smiling, standing
Jesus. “Jesus is alive again!” I said, and I didn’t have to pretend to be
excited. And your face burst into life, and you looked at me with wonder in
your eyes. I told you all about it, and then you wanted to go back to the part
where he died, just so you could see it happen one more time.
“Where’s our Jesus, Mommy?” you asked at the end of the
story. “He’s in heaven now,” I said. You paused a moment, then reassured me, “He
will come to play in the sand here, in the summertime.” That seemed to settle
the matter.
Love Mommy
Thursday, 17 May 2012
Letters to Arden - May 16, 2012
Dear Arden,
Tomorrow is your second birthday! You will be two whole, wonderful years old, and your new baby brother Jack will be one month old. An amazing thing happened the day Jack was born. You came to visit us in the hospital, and suddenly you were no longer our little baby – you were our big little girl! When I hugged you, you were so much heavier than you were the day before. You have never grown so quickly as you did in that one day. It’s funny how things can change overnight, how time can push us forward, almost before we’re ready, into another world.
In this new world, your hands are chubbier, your expressions more grown up, your steps surer, and your will stronger. I see the signs of a little lady, flashes of who you will be in another year, another decade. The fire in your eyes is brighter as you take in these surroundings. You are wiser, even as there is more at which to wonder.
Something happened to me, too. They say that when another child comes along, a mother’s love multiplies. It does not divide to diminish the love for the first. And truly, my love for you has not diminished. Quite the opposite in fact! You see, my heart has become bigger. Loving Jack has made me love you even more. These changes have created a whole new space within me, a space where my love for you has expanded, even exploded. Though you are running with bigger steps each day, this love is always one step ahead.
This is one of those divine miracles of motherhood. This is the nature of love, because it is the nature of God. He is always bigger than we imagine Him to be. When the unknown comes upon us, He knows the way ahead. When we are tossed forward, it is never into a space where He is not. When we think we’ve reached the end of the rope, love uncoils a new beginning. The more we grow, the more of Him we see. The more we love, the more love there is.
“Aslan, said Lucy, “you’re bigger.”
“That is because you are older, little one,” answered he.
“Not because you are?”
“I am not. But every year you grow, you will find me bigger.”
(CS Lewis, Prince Caspian)
As you turn two, little one, know that I love you more each day, each year. As you grow, I too am growing into God’s infinite love. There will always be room for you. There will always be more love.
love Mommy
Tomorrow is your second birthday! You will be two whole, wonderful years old, and your new baby brother Jack will be one month old. An amazing thing happened the day Jack was born. You came to visit us in the hospital, and suddenly you were no longer our little baby – you were our big little girl! When I hugged you, you were so much heavier than you were the day before. You have never grown so quickly as you did in that one day. It’s funny how things can change overnight, how time can push us forward, almost before we’re ready, into another world.
In this new world, your hands are chubbier, your expressions more grown up, your steps surer, and your will stronger. I see the signs of a little lady, flashes of who you will be in another year, another decade. The fire in your eyes is brighter as you take in these surroundings. You are wiser, even as there is more at which to wonder.
Something happened to me, too. They say that when another child comes along, a mother’s love multiplies. It does not divide to diminish the love for the first. And truly, my love for you has not diminished. Quite the opposite in fact! You see, my heart has become bigger. Loving Jack has made me love you even more. These changes have created a whole new space within me, a space where my love for you has expanded, even exploded. Though you are running with bigger steps each day, this love is always one step ahead.
This is one of those divine miracles of motherhood. This is the nature of love, because it is the nature of God. He is always bigger than we imagine Him to be. When the unknown comes upon us, He knows the way ahead. When we are tossed forward, it is never into a space where He is not. When we think we’ve reached the end of the rope, love uncoils a new beginning. The more we grow, the more of Him we see. The more we love, the more love there is.
“Aslan, said Lucy, “you’re bigger.”
“That is because you are older, little one,” answered he.
“Not because you are?”
“I am not. But every year you grow, you will find me bigger.”
(CS Lewis, Prince Caspian)
As you turn two, little one, know that I love you more each day, each year. As you grow, I too am growing into God’s infinite love. There will always be room for you. There will always be more love.
love Mommy
Wednesday, 16 May 2012
Letters to Arden - March 29, 2012
Dear Arden,
You are no longer our little baby, but our growing bigger girl. Soon you will be a big sister! So many changes are on the way . . . you too are changing every day. You are growing into the life God has given you, growing into your fiery personality, your independence, your identity as a daughter, a sister, but most of all your very own identity as you, just you. And that is how I love you. I love just you.
I am still learning who you are! Still discovering all the little things that make you sweet and hilarious and mischievous and marvelous. You are free to be just you! And though you are not like me in many ways, I will love you even when I don’t understand you. I will embrace the way God has shaped you. I will encourage you to make your own path, even when I cannot follow.
And when your new brother or sister arrives (any day now!), you will not lose your place in our love, in our lives. You will continue to be our Arden, our firstborn, our daughter, the spark of joy that first set us alight as parents.
Just you. And that will always be enough.
love Mommy
~lg
You are no longer our little baby, but our growing bigger girl. Soon you will be a big sister! So many changes are on the way . . . you too are changing every day. You are growing into the life God has given you, growing into your fiery personality, your independence, your identity as a daughter, a sister, but most of all your very own identity as you, just you. And that is how I love you. I love just you.
I am still learning who you are! Still discovering all the little things that make you sweet and hilarious and mischievous and marvelous. You are free to be just you! And though you are not like me in many ways, I will love you even when I don’t understand you. I will embrace the way God has shaped you. I will encourage you to make your own path, even when I cannot follow.
And when your new brother or sister arrives (any day now!), you will not lose your place in our love, in our lives. You will continue to be our Arden, our firstborn, our daughter, the spark of joy that first set us alight as parents.
Just you. And that will always be enough.
love Mommy
~lg
Tuesday, 8 November 2011
Letters to Arden – November 7, 2011
Seasons change again, and you with them. You are running into life and all that it offers, exploring every corner, testing every boundary, wondering at everything new.
Even now I see your fiery spirit as you engage and enlarge your world. Are you growing into your name, or did your name find you when you were still hidden, sensing a fitting recipient?
So many forces are already at work to shape you into the Arden you will become. And I, your mother, fight for safety and virtue and grace to push ahead of all the rest, I fight to discern what we should embrace, I fight to be the shape of Christ against you, not my will but His.
I pray Love’s force will always win in the end, though Love can be fierce as well as gentle. Your fire will burn brightest when it is kindled from His.
And meanwhile, while you grow, so does my heart, so do my arms – and you can always run to them.
Love Mama
~lg
Even now I see your fiery spirit as you engage and enlarge your world. Are you growing into your name, or did your name find you when you were still hidden, sensing a fitting recipient?
So many forces are already at work to shape you into the Arden you will become. And I, your mother, fight for safety and virtue and grace to push ahead of all the rest, I fight to discern what we should embrace, I fight to be the shape of Christ against you, not my will but His.
I pray Love’s force will always win in the end, though Love can be fierce as well as gentle. Your fire will burn brightest when it is kindled from His.
And meanwhile, while you grow, so does my heart, so do my arms – and you can always run to them.
Love Mama
~lg
Monday, 11 July 2011
Letters to Arden - July 11, 2011
Dear Arden,
Will I remember these moments?
The way our noses touch after your bath, you all but hidden in a towel, soft skin, downy hair, bright eyes, our terry cloth cuddles.
The way your head falls on my shoulder, turning in toward the hollow of my neck on our way up the stairs, sharing our lullaby, your little smile and wave as you pull the blanket close.
The pure glee that escapes your lips as you step outside on Daddy’s shoulders, delighted by wind and trees and sea, arms outstretched to welcome it all.
A thousand little moments that take my breath away and replace it with something better – love.
~ mama
Will I remember these moments?
The way our noses touch after your bath, you all but hidden in a towel, soft skin, downy hair, bright eyes, our terry cloth cuddles.
The way your head falls on my shoulder, turning in toward the hollow of my neck on our way up the stairs, sharing our lullaby, your little smile and wave as you pull the blanket close.
The pure glee that escapes your lips as you step outside on Daddy’s shoulders, delighted by wind and trees and sea, arms outstretched to welcome it all.
A thousand little moments that take my breath away and replace it with something better – love.
~ mama
Monday, 16 May 2011
Letters to Arden - May 6, 2010
Written eleven days before Arden's birth
Dear baby,
Today was the first warm rain of the season! I went out to run some errands in preparation for your arrival, just as the first gentle drops started to fall. There was a light, fresh breeze, mingling earth and sky in a delicious springy smell. You would have loved it! I can’t wait for you to experience the wonderful world and all its simple joys. The leaves should be out on the trees by the time you arrive. You’ll learn that green makes such a difference in the look of things.
We’re buying a new house just after you arrive too. It’s a big old house in Wheatley River. I’m excited for you because you’ll get to discover life beside a river. Rivers have their own music. So do oceans and streams . . . what fun we’ll have learning all their songs!
God has created such delightful things. If you look closely, you’ll be able to see glimpses of God’s face in the flowers, His nature in nature. He loves us so much! The best thing about living in the world is meeting its Creator. It’s only through Him that you will understand life and find fulfillment. He knows you already, more than I do or ever will. But I hope I will do a good job of introducing you to him, of helping you know Him as Father, Son and Holy Spirit. Jesus has made our humanity such a grace filled existence. I’m so thankful He has entrusted you to your Father and I. We love you already!
~lg
Dear baby,
Today was the first warm rain of the season! I went out to run some errands in preparation for your arrival, just as the first gentle drops started to fall. There was a light, fresh breeze, mingling earth and sky in a delicious springy smell. You would have loved it! I can’t wait for you to experience the wonderful world and all its simple joys. The leaves should be out on the trees by the time you arrive. You’ll learn that green makes such a difference in the look of things.
We’re buying a new house just after you arrive too. It’s a big old house in Wheatley River. I’m excited for you because you’ll get to discover life beside a river. Rivers have their own music. So do oceans and streams . . . what fun we’ll have learning all their songs!
God has created such delightful things. If you look closely, you’ll be able to see glimpses of God’s face in the flowers, His nature in nature. He loves us so much! The best thing about living in the world is meeting its Creator. It’s only through Him that you will understand life and find fulfillment. He knows you already, more than I do or ever will. But I hope I will do a good job of introducing you to him, of helping you know Him as Father, Son and Holy Spirit. Jesus has made our humanity such a grace filled existence. I’m so thankful He has entrusted you to your Father and I. We love you already!
~lg
Monday, 25 April 2011
Letters to Arden - April 23, 2011
Dear Arden,
Today is Holy Saturday. You are too little to know what this weekend is all about, that today was the day the world fell silent as the grave. It is a busy weekend of worship and presentations and cleaning and reflection. But all that is on hold this afternoon as I take you in my arms. I don’t know what’s wrong, but you are inconsolable. Are you teething? Do you have a tummy ache? Are you getting sick? I try nursing, I try bouncing, I try distracting you with toys, I try a nap, I try cookies, I try funny faces, I try Tylenol, I try giving you to Daddy and leaving the room, but nothing works. You cry and contort in pain and discomfort.
Finally I scoop you up and take you to the kitchen, where the washing machine is spinning and the floors still haven’t been mopped. I turn on the little stereo and its glowing blue light grabs your attention. I put the iPod on the Passion week playlist and turn it up. The music begins – Come and Mourn with Me Awhile, How Deep the Father’s Love For Us, Sing to Jesus. I dance and sing and rock and your sobs turn to whimpers. You couldn’t possibly know what these words mean, yet as I sing the story of the cross over you, you soften in my arms. I sing them by heart and with all my heart, embracing these moments of broken worship, soothing you somehow with Christ’s sorrow. You settle into quiet rest, and still I sing, praying these words will find their way into your bones and blood, that they will grow with you till one Holy Saturday they will spill out of your own mouth like tears of praise.
love Mommy
Today is Holy Saturday. You are too little to know what this weekend is all about, that today was the day the world fell silent as the grave. It is a busy weekend of worship and presentations and cleaning and reflection. But all that is on hold this afternoon as I take you in my arms. I don’t know what’s wrong, but you are inconsolable. Are you teething? Do you have a tummy ache? Are you getting sick? I try nursing, I try bouncing, I try distracting you with toys, I try a nap, I try cookies, I try funny faces, I try Tylenol, I try giving you to Daddy and leaving the room, but nothing works. You cry and contort in pain and discomfort.
Finally I scoop you up and take you to the kitchen, where the washing machine is spinning and the floors still haven’t been mopped. I turn on the little stereo and its glowing blue light grabs your attention. I put the iPod on the Passion week playlist and turn it up. The music begins – Come and Mourn with Me Awhile, How Deep the Father’s Love For Us, Sing to Jesus. I dance and sing and rock and your sobs turn to whimpers. You couldn’t possibly know what these words mean, yet as I sing the story of the cross over you, you soften in my arms. I sing them by heart and with all my heart, embracing these moments of broken worship, soothing you somehow with Christ’s sorrow. You settle into quiet rest, and still I sing, praying these words will find their way into your bones and blood, that they will grow with you till one Holy Saturday they will spill out of your own mouth like tears of praise.
love Mommy
Tuesday, 15 February 2011
Letters to Arden – January 10, 2011
Arden,
There is a beautiful moment when your eyes close and you fall asleep in my arms. These days you are usually too busy and aware to shut the rest of the world out, unless you are curled up in your own crib. But this morning you gave me the gift of your sleep, your weight, your warmth.
By this gift you tell me all is right in your world. You tell me you have received the love I strive to show you in so many ways. I feel your heart send its morse code signals to my own, little words beat out in a gentle rhythm – love, peace, safety.
Who teaches us how to love in this mother-daughter way? I did not have to read a book, or follow four parental laws. You did not need lessons from the nurses or other experts. Somehow in birth we are both given the language, a special revelation. We are taught by God Himself.
It’s no surprise, really, although it is a thing of holy wonder and grace. God, who is Love, is the One who gives us breath, makes and sustains our beating hearts. He cannot give of Himself without giving love. This reality is in our lungs and veins. It is all around us, sighing in the trees, falling with the snow, murmuring in the sea.
We are His children first. We have been made so by Christ, and we are both His sisters. When He leads us to the Father, He throws open the door and pours His very Spirit, Love Itself, into our hearts. By this Spirit we cry “Abba,” settling into His arms. This is how we know what love is. This is the Embrace that surrounds us as we sit here now the Embrace that strengthens my arms and lulls you to sleep. Sleep sweetly, little one. You are loved.
Mama
There is a beautiful moment when your eyes close and you fall asleep in my arms. These days you are usually too busy and aware to shut the rest of the world out, unless you are curled up in your own crib. But this morning you gave me the gift of your sleep, your weight, your warmth.
By this gift you tell me all is right in your world. You tell me you have received the love I strive to show you in so many ways. I feel your heart send its morse code signals to my own, little words beat out in a gentle rhythm – love, peace, safety.
Who teaches us how to love in this mother-daughter way? I did not have to read a book, or follow four parental laws. You did not need lessons from the nurses or other experts. Somehow in birth we are both given the language, a special revelation. We are taught by God Himself.
It’s no surprise, really, although it is a thing of holy wonder and grace. God, who is Love, is the One who gives us breath, makes and sustains our beating hearts. He cannot give of Himself without giving love. This reality is in our lungs and veins. It is all around us, sighing in the trees, falling with the snow, murmuring in the sea.
We are His children first. We have been made so by Christ, and we are both His sisters. When He leads us to the Father, He throws open the door and pours His very Spirit, Love Itself, into our hearts. By this Spirit we cry “Abba,” settling into His arms. This is how we know what love is. This is the Embrace that surrounds us as we sit here now the Embrace that strengthens my arms and lulls you to sleep. Sleep sweetly, little one. You are loved.
Mama
Saturday, 25 December 2010
Letters to Arden - December 25, 2010
Dear Arden,
It’s the evening of your first Christmas Day, and you are tucked in bed after a full day of festivities. We woke up to green fields and stuffed stockings. Santa found us in Wheatley River! I’m not sure you really knew what was going on under the tree . . . but you sure loved all the wrapping paper and ribbon! All those presents tired you out, and I’ve never seen you curl up so quickly with your blanket for a nap, thumb in your mouth.
The snow began to fall as we drove to our friends’ house for Christmas dinner. You enjoyed every spoonful – potatoes, gravy, turnip, sweet potato, carrot, green beans, parsnips, and plum pudding sauce. We couldn’t get the food in your mouth fast enough!
Back home we talked with family and friends on Skype who were happy to see you in your darling red dress. There are people who love you spread all over the world. Isn’t that a lovely thought? At the end of the day you sat content, surrounded by a little pile of toys, trying each one to see what it tasted like.
When you were too sleepy to stay up any longer, Daddy read the Christmas story while I held you close. I showed you Mary, Joseph and baby Jesus from our nativity set, and you wanted to eat baby Jesus too! We put both of you to bed, you with your new woolen rabbit and him with his tiny blanket. Baby Jesus is sleeping up in your room tonight. You are both safe and warm. One day you will understand who Jesus is and why he came, but for now all you need to know is that he'll stay by your cradle till morning is nigh.
Quiet night has fallen on the island and the green fields are now covered in wonderful white, a gift from the heavens. And I feel content. Content because we are together as a family in our warm house with too many blessings to count. Content because I don’t need gifts to have Christmas. I just need you, Daddy and baby Jesus.
Oh, I hear a cry coming from upstairs. I guess you wanted Christmas to last just a bit longer! Time for one more lullaby. Away in a manger . . .
~lg
It’s the evening of your first Christmas Day, and you are tucked in bed after a full day of festivities. We woke up to green fields and stuffed stockings. Santa found us in Wheatley River! I’m not sure you really knew what was going on under the tree . . . but you sure loved all the wrapping paper and ribbon! All those presents tired you out, and I’ve never seen you curl up so quickly with your blanket for a nap, thumb in your mouth.
The snow began to fall as we drove to our friends’ house for Christmas dinner. You enjoyed every spoonful – potatoes, gravy, turnip, sweet potato, carrot, green beans, parsnips, and plum pudding sauce. We couldn’t get the food in your mouth fast enough!
Back home we talked with family and friends on Skype who were happy to see you in your darling red dress. There are people who love you spread all over the world. Isn’t that a lovely thought? At the end of the day you sat content, surrounded by a little pile of toys, trying each one to see what it tasted like.
When you were too sleepy to stay up any longer, Daddy read the Christmas story while I held you close. I showed you Mary, Joseph and baby Jesus from our nativity set, and you wanted to eat baby Jesus too! We put both of you to bed, you with your new woolen rabbit and him with his tiny blanket. Baby Jesus is sleeping up in your room tonight. You are both safe and warm. One day you will understand who Jesus is and why he came, but for now all you need to know is that he'll stay by your cradle till morning is nigh.
Quiet night has fallen on the island and the green fields are now covered in wonderful white, a gift from the heavens. And I feel content. Content because we are together as a family in our warm house with too many blessings to count. Content because I don’t need gifts to have Christmas. I just need you, Daddy and baby Jesus.
Oh, I hear a cry coming from upstairs. I guess you wanted Christmas to last just a bit longer! Time for one more lullaby. Away in a manger . . .
~lg
Wednesday, 10 November 2010
Letters to Arden - November 10, 2010
Dear Arden,
Today I am struck by the very fact of your existence. It’s crazy to think that not so long ago you didn’t even exist! And now you’re here, a living little creature with your own spin on God’s image. You have your own way of being in the world that is unlike any other. The way you chew your toes, the way you laugh at the cat, the way you stomp your foot, the way you reach your arms out as if to grab the whole wide world and see what it tastes like – your way is truly unique. I think I understand a little bit of what God felt like in Genesis 1. What a marvelous thing to bring something into existence! I’m giddy just thinking of who you’ll become today, tomorrow, and the next day. You’ve turned our existence upside down, that’s for sure. And you’re totally worth it.
~lg
Today I am struck by the very fact of your existence. It’s crazy to think that not so long ago you didn’t even exist! And now you’re here, a living little creature with your own spin on God’s image. You have your own way of being in the world that is unlike any other. The way you chew your toes, the way you laugh at the cat, the way you stomp your foot, the way you reach your arms out as if to grab the whole wide world and see what it tastes like – your way is truly unique. I think I understand a little bit of what God felt like in Genesis 1. What a marvelous thing to bring something into existence! I’m giddy just thinking of who you’ll become today, tomorrow, and the next day. You’ve turned our existence upside down, that’s for sure. And you’re totally worth it.
~lg
Wednesday, 20 October 2010
Letters to Arden - October 20, 2010
Dear Arden,
The seasons are changing, and you are growing! Between the time you were born and the time we brought you home the leaves burst into full spring green on the trees. It seems fitting that you and the leaves arrived at the same time, colouring our world with life. You felt the apple blossom breezes and heard the river’s merry tune. When we counted your age in days the world was new again.
In summer we slept in arms’ reach with the windows open. You discovered blue, the blue of a brilliant sky and the shining sea. You walked with us along the dunes, and even dipped your tiny toes in the salty water. Summer was full to the brim with family and working on our new home and discovering a little more of you each day.
Now we look out the window into a golden world. The trees release their colours into a chilly wind, and we bundle you up again. You love to look at this big old world with blue eyes a little wiser everyday. As the leaves fall, I can’t help but want to slow them down, to show you every shade of your first autumn, to preserve the perfect look on your face, the size of your hands grasping my fingers.
You change with each season, growing, giving us more to love. I can’t pick my favourite season, they are all so beautiful. I think the perfect day will always be “today,” this present moment, the colour of now.
~lg
The seasons are changing, and you are growing! Between the time you were born and the time we brought you home the leaves burst into full spring green on the trees. It seems fitting that you and the leaves arrived at the same time, colouring our world with life. You felt the apple blossom breezes and heard the river’s merry tune. When we counted your age in days the world was new again.
In summer we slept in arms’ reach with the windows open. You discovered blue, the blue of a brilliant sky and the shining sea. You walked with us along the dunes, and even dipped your tiny toes in the salty water. Summer was full to the brim with family and working on our new home and discovering a little more of you each day.
Now we look out the window into a golden world. The trees release their colours into a chilly wind, and we bundle you up again. You love to look at this big old world with blue eyes a little wiser everyday. As the leaves fall, I can’t help but want to slow them down, to show you every shade of your first autumn, to preserve the perfect look on your face, the size of your hands grasping my fingers.
You change with each season, growing, giving us more to love. I can’t pick my favourite season, they are all so beautiful. I think the perfect day will always be “today,” this present moment, the colour of now.
~lg
Friday, 17 September 2010
Letters to Arden - September 17, 2010
Arden Leigh,
You are four months old this morning! You are napping just now, after having fallen asleep in my arms. In the stillness of a rainy morning, I look at your peaceful face and say your name with a quiet awe.
Your name means passionate, eager, shining. It is a name born of fire. I see it in your eyes, and my heart glows. You have kindled an ardent love within us, and it will only get brighter.
I pray you will love with passion, embrace the life God has given you with eagerness, and that the light from your soul will shine and bring warmth to the world around you.
Your middle name means meadow. A meadow is a place of joyful freedom. With the sun shining down, you can open your arms and run with the wind. You can skip, tumble, twirl and dream. You can sing with the psalmist, “He brought me out into a spacious place! He rescued me because He delighted in me!” I pray you will know God’s freedom and delight.
Your middle name is also a family name. It connects you to the wonderful people who are so happy you have been born. In this family you have a haven of love and a heritage of faith. You are part of our shared life and you will always be welcome.
And more importantly, God knows your name. You are His daughter too, and He rejoices over you with singing. I pray you will always hear when He speaks your name.
Arden Leigh. Your name is a blessing on my lips. I whisper it with wonder and gratitude, I call it with joy. We love you baby girl.
All my love,
Mommy
You are four months old this morning! You are napping just now, after having fallen asleep in my arms. In the stillness of a rainy morning, I look at your peaceful face and say your name with a quiet awe.
Your name means passionate, eager, shining. It is a name born of fire. I see it in your eyes, and my heart glows. You have kindled an ardent love within us, and it will only get brighter.
I pray you will love with passion, embrace the life God has given you with eagerness, and that the light from your soul will shine and bring warmth to the world around you.
Your middle name means meadow. A meadow is a place of joyful freedom. With the sun shining down, you can open your arms and run with the wind. You can skip, tumble, twirl and dream. You can sing with the psalmist, “He brought me out into a spacious place! He rescued me because He delighted in me!” I pray you will know God’s freedom and delight.
Your middle name is also a family name. It connects you to the wonderful people who are so happy you have been born. In this family you have a haven of love and a heritage of faith. You are part of our shared life and you will always be welcome.
And more importantly, God knows your name. You are His daughter too, and He rejoices over you with singing. I pray you will always hear when He speaks your name.
Arden Leigh. Your name is a blessing on my lips. I whisper it with wonder and gratitude, I call it with joy. We love you baby girl.
All my love,
Mommy
Tuesday, 17 August 2010
Letters to Arden - August 17, 2010
Dear Arden,
You’re three months old and already a thief and a stowaway! You boarded this ship and snuck down the stairs, down into the deepest curves of the hull. You found the treasure chest and stole my gold – my time, my energy, my attention, my love. You moved in and strung up a laundry line of diapers and darling smiles. I know your tricks. And now, you’re sleeping in that big wooden chest, snoring contentedly as the waves sing rock-a-bye baby. You’ve curled up with my heart and I don’t think I’ll be getting it back any time soon. You can have it all little thief. Just promise you’ll never leave.
~lg
You’re three months old and already a thief and a stowaway! You boarded this ship and snuck down the stairs, down into the deepest curves of the hull. You found the treasure chest and stole my gold – my time, my energy, my attention, my love. You moved in and strung up a laundry line of diapers and darling smiles. I know your tricks. And now, you’re sleeping in that big wooden chest, snoring contentedly as the waves sing rock-a-bye baby. You’ve curled up with my heart and I don’t think I’ll be getting it back any time soon. You can have it all little thief. Just promise you’ll never leave.
~lg
Tuesday, 27 July 2010
Letters to Arden - July 27, 2010
Dear Arden,
Sometimes in the early morning, when I strip you down and hold you close, you seem to me the newborn again. Soft skin, bright eyes, fuzzy hair. You fit perfectly in my arms, and we snuggle in a shared warmth.
Sometimes I close my eyes and remember the day of your birth, May 17, 2010. You were born at 8:48 am. I don't remember that moment, but you were the last prayer of my heart in the operating room and the first thought on my mind when I woke up. You were so tiny, a gift from God wrapped in your daddy's shirt. Loving strength and warmth were his first gifts to you.
Now I look in your deep blue eyes and see ten weeks of living. They've gone by so fast! But time stands still when we gaze at each other, and I know somehow you have always been part of my heart. And no matter how big, you always will.
~lg
Sometimes in the early morning, when I strip you down and hold you close, you seem to me the newborn again. Soft skin, bright eyes, fuzzy hair. You fit perfectly in my arms, and we snuggle in a shared warmth.
Sometimes I close my eyes and remember the day of your birth, May 17, 2010. You were born at 8:48 am. I don't remember that moment, but you were the last prayer of my heart in the operating room and the first thought on my mind when I woke up. You were so tiny, a gift from God wrapped in your daddy's shirt. Loving strength and warmth were his first gifts to you.
Now I look in your deep blue eyes and see ten weeks of living. They've gone by so fast! But time stands still when we gaze at each other, and I know somehow you have always been part of my heart. And no matter how big, you always will.
~lg
Sunday, 11 July 2010
Letters to Arden - July 11, 2010
Dear Arden,
Be brave, little girl. We will follow Christ. Up the higher ways, mountains too high for us, but He will give us hinds' feet to walk on the heights. We will follow His way. We will learn His steps.
Be brave, little girl. We will love like Christ. And you are already showing me how. He is teaching me through you, and as I learn, I will let the love lessons pass to you. We will wrap love and faithfulness around us, like I have swaddled you, so they will never leave us. He will never leave us.
Be brave, little girl. We may kneel in the thorns of suffering, but love will heal. We may fall on the slippery crags, but love will raise us. We may lose our way in the dark night of the soul, but love will find us. Christ will find us, bind us to Himself.
Be brave, little girl. You are loved. You are Christ's.
~lg
Be brave, little girl. We will follow Christ. Up the higher ways, mountains too high for us, but He will give us hinds' feet to walk on the heights. We will follow His way. We will learn His steps.
Be brave, little girl. We will love like Christ. And you are already showing me how. He is teaching me through you, and as I learn, I will let the love lessons pass to you. We will wrap love and faithfulness around us, like I have swaddled you, so they will never leave us. He will never leave us.
Be brave, little girl. We may kneel in the thorns of suffering, but love will heal. We may fall on the slippery crags, but love will raise us. We may lose our way in the dark night of the soul, but love will find us. Christ will find us, bind us to Himself.
Be brave, little girl. You are loved. You are Christ's.
~lg
Letters to Arden - July 4, 2010
Dear Arden,
Tomorrow you will be seven weeks old! Seven is the number of perfection, and you are definitely perfect. Everything good about life and existence is bundled into eight or so pounds of you.
It makes me sad and angry to think of the ways we humans degrade and destroy the life, the goodness God gives. I don't want to think that anyone will ever hurt you or take away your innocence. Yet I also know that we are each capable of being masters of our own demise. You may be perfect, but life is also broken, and my heart breaks knowing one day you will wake to pain and suffering.
When God gives us children, I think He gives us a window into His heart. His heart rejoices, breaks, all because of love. And He is the way back to Goodness when life is less than perfect. I have discovered this, and I pray you will find it to be true when you need it to be.
In His goodness, He has also gifted us to bring love into our world. Together with the Spirit, we imagine new ways of living, and loving. There is hope for our world. There is a love that will not disappoint. There is a God who is Good.
His Goodness already shines in your deep blue eyes. I can't wait to see the ways God will love through you. You have already brought so much love into our hearts. He is rejoicing over you, and so am I.
And so, in your tiny seven weeks of perfection, I pray you will know Goodness, that will know our Perfect Father's heart. I pray His heart will become yours, and mine. And I pray I will bring His love into your world.
~lg
Tomorrow you will be seven weeks old! Seven is the number of perfection, and you are definitely perfect. Everything good about life and existence is bundled into eight or so pounds of you.
It makes me sad and angry to think of the ways we humans degrade and destroy the life, the goodness God gives. I don't want to think that anyone will ever hurt you or take away your innocence. Yet I also know that we are each capable of being masters of our own demise. You may be perfect, but life is also broken, and my heart breaks knowing one day you will wake to pain and suffering.
When God gives us children, I think He gives us a window into His heart. His heart rejoices, breaks, all because of love. And He is the way back to Goodness when life is less than perfect. I have discovered this, and I pray you will find it to be true when you need it to be.
In His goodness, He has also gifted us to bring love into our world. Together with the Spirit, we imagine new ways of living, and loving. There is hope for our world. There is a love that will not disappoint. There is a God who is Good.
His Goodness already shines in your deep blue eyes. I can't wait to see the ways God will love through you. You have already brought so much love into our hearts. He is rejoicing over you, and so am I.
And so, in your tiny seven weeks of perfection, I pray you will know Goodness, that will know our Perfect Father's heart. I pray His heart will become yours, and mine. And I pray I will bring His love into your world.
~lg
Monday, 5 July 2010
Letters to Arden - May 31, 2010
Arden,
You are here! Not the way I expected, but safely, soundly here. Becoming a mother has been baptism by tears. I cried when they told me I wouldn't be awake when you were born. I cried when I first saw your face cradled in daddy's arms. I cried through countless feedings, knowing my pain would keep you growing. I cried rocking you to sleep, because you were too beautiful for words.
And now you are starting to smile! It's a dopey smile of content mostly, right after a feeding, and in those warm moments when you are beginning to wake and haven't realized how hungry you are yet. In your smile I see glimpses of your personality, little peeks of what is to come.
And so I smile for you every day. I try to smile even when I'm in pain, when I'm tired, when I'm overwhelmed by all that is new, all that is you. I want you to see love in my face. I want you to know how happy I am that you are here.
~ lg
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