Having children is like having my own, personal time machine that catapults me into the future faster than I could ever imagine. While the weary days inch by, the memories pile up at lightning speed.
Too quickly, there is a past created by a mountain of moments that hold a piece of my heart forever.
Matilda is turning five. This feels monumental. My brain and heart are having a hard time reconciling sentiment and reality. I let myself get carried away with thinking how soon more milestones will crowd my maternal memories.
So, what do I do to cement this moment into my own story? How do I make my mark on this day to let her know, in her own time, how special this phase of life is to our family? Well, of course, I write her something!
I'm not much of a poet. I can spew truth for days, lay out my soul for others to read, but when it comes to eloquent speeches I'm often at a loss.
Nevertheless...indulge me. This isn't for you. This isn't for anyone but my Matilda.
I pray someday she will read this and see my heart. In all my mistakes as a human, as a mother, as a friend, I pray she knows in her core how deeply I depend on Jesus for how I raise her. I hope her bones feel their worth in His eyes alone.
I have faith that through all the ups and downs we will have as mother and daughter that above all she will hold on to the fact that when I met her, I loved her, and nothing will ever change that.
Through the years and forever, I can't wait to get to know her more and more. My first girl. My Matilda.