Opening Up

Dear Cora,
Today you seemed so much older. Maybe it was the unsteady but insistent position you would take after pulling yourself up to the coffee table, the couch, the rocking chair. Perhaps it was my perspective - how, after working in the 2 year old room, I saw so many similarities between them and you. Maybe it was the thighs that look bigger and stronger. I think it might have been the way you reached out for and inspected leaves, evergreen needles and flower petals as we explored our garden in the front yard. Most of all, I think it was the way you opened up today.

I remember so vividly your light, tiny body, wrapped in a soft blanket and scrunched up against mine. I would often use two boppy pillows just to support you while you nursed. Your body clenched itself closed, like you were resisting this big, bright, loud, new world that was bombarding you with sensory experiences. Laying you down on your back was traumatic - your arms would jump out to the side, and your legs would suddenly snap, unfolded. But, with time, you grew. You grew used to changing positions and new touches. You even began to reach away from the safe arms of the person holding you. Your curiosity, interests and physical ability developed and you opened your eyes and arms to a new world.

Around the same time, your legs opened up, stretched out. As you began to spend time gazing up at dangling toys and rattles, you would kick your light feet, making barely-audible thumps on the ground. Your legs and feet wiggled and explored, and soon there were dragging knees across the floor, finding your way to the things you had to touch and wanted to taste.

Sometimes, when you sleep, you pull your knees to your belly again, just like that tiny baby I stared at in awe in a hospital room. For a little while, you once again want to feel safe, to close yourself from the new and sink into the familiar and the peaceful. I hope I will always get these glimpses of the little you.

These days, during your waking hours, your body is mostly opened up. I do notice that you often still spend a lot of your time with tightened fists, not quite ready to fully commit to receiving every thing out there. Yet you are starting to open them more and more - to pick up peas and cereal snacks, to pull a leaf off a bush, to slap the surface of a table or even to push your daddy or I away when you want down to explore. It makes me realize how far you have come, how much you have grown. And while I sometimes miss holding that still, tiny, scrunched-up baby, I do not want to clench closed any part of your growing heart, mind or body. For while your body has changed immensely and opened up almost completely, there are so many more places for you to grow. I pray your heart will open up, hearing the Holy Spirit calling you to Grace and Love. I hope to see you open your heart up to a people group, a mission, a passion. Perhaps it will open up to a person too - to a man who comes along side you in your passion and open heart.

You are a beautiful flower, Cora. You are a part of a field of millions yet created with the most perfect beauty by the most perfect Opener of hearts. I love you.

Hairy Situations

Dear Cora,

Someday, I am sorry to say, you will need to start using a razor. Your body will change and grow and will first leave behind the baby-child shape, taking on a lean and active one. Not much longer after that your young body will develop into one of an adult, a woman, in many different ways. And one of those way brings the need for you to scrape a series of sharp metal pieces across your legs. It sounds ridiculous, I know. Who in their right mind would do that? Well, I just want you to know a few things about this torturous habit that will help you along the way:

1. Water is the bare necessity. Soap, conditioner, or shaving cream is best. Any of those will work great, just do not ever, ever try this without water.

2. Shave against the growth on your legs, shave with the growth on your underarms. Just trust me on that one.

3. The razor is for your legs and your armpits. That's all. I can think of a half a dozen other body parts that "could" be shaved but shouldn't. There are much safer, less painful, and more effective ways to rid yourself of hair in those places. Again, trust me. Make a mistake with this one, and it may not be fixable.

4. If you want to really enjoy smooth legs as much as possible, shave right before bed. There are few things as satisfying as slipping your freshly shaved legs between clean sheets.

You are beautiful, my dearest Cora.

It's a Girl

I was a little stunned on January 11, 2010 when we found out that the tiny person inside me was female. Then I got a little scared. For some reason, I felt like I could be a mom to a boy (or two, or three). But as a girl myself, I know a thing or two about the struggles, the hormones, the difficulties of growing. And a piece of me suddenly felt terrified at trying to navigate those waters as a guide and a mother to another little female. How could I do that when I feel like I have no answers or solutions, when I still end some days in tears?

I think the answer is simply that I am not the guide - that I get to show my child to the Guide. I have the privilege of telling her my stories that I hope point her to Hope, the Hope of Jesus and the Hope of redemption. Some stories may be silly and light, others may be hard and full of weight. There may be tales that will mirror her own, and there maybe be ones to which she cannot relate. That does not matter, because the point is to tell a story.

Stories undeniably impacted my growth, from toddlerhood to teens, from college independence to marriage obligations. A vast array of fictional stories, family stories, stories of heros and of saints have filled my imagination and heart. I love that thousands, even millions of stories can be written and read and yet they still somehow carry the same truths and meanings.

I do not think my stories will be especially unique, but they will be mine and they will be shared because I think it is good to know the stories of those who love you. Cora Beth, my heart fills up with just the thought of you. It overflows when I try to form words to tell you things. So instead I beam back at your sweet, smiling face. I will try to tell stories here, with the hope that you will read them, and that you will find things. That you will find the depth of my love for you, the significance of your own story, the treasure of your history and roots. But most of all, I pray that you will somehow find another dimension of Grace, of Love, and of the Creator of these gifts.

I love you, my girl.

Dear __________

I read a lot of blogs. Some seasons of life I have read more than others, but can say that I have consistently followed at least a handful of them for five years now. For some reason, this habit presents a problem when I try to blog. I start to wonder who will read my blog, when they will read it, and what their contributing thoughts would be. I sift my thoughts and weigh what I say, usually ending up with absolutely nothing, as I like to talk about things that please everyone, or I just don't talk at all. (I am not saying this is a good - or bad - trait. It is just what I do.)

Anyways, I do have a small (in more than one way) audience I want to write for. My children. Right now, I only have one sweet daughter. Cora Lisbeth is 8 months old. Sometimes I think about things that I want her to know someday. I don't know if all of those things will come to mind at the right time and in the right place, so something feels right about the idea of writing it all down. So, this is what I will try to do.