I begged her not to do it.
But she did it anyway.
She turned FIVE today.
I know time flies and kids turn five every day. But my baby. My baby.
She loves for me to tell her the story of how she came to us. She gets a kick out of the fact that I really really wanted her to be a boy. (And the fact that I really really wanted her sister to be a boy, too). And the fact that there were so many daughters and granddaughters in the family, my Dad offered up money to the one who could produce a grandson. (And I’m super competitive). So when I found out I was having another girl I struggled with gender disappointment for months.
“But here’s a lesson God keeps having to teach Mommy.” I say.
“Just like a carpenter builds a house, God builds a family. And so, once upon a time, God thought about all the little boys and little girls He had made…
and He looked down at Daddy and said, ‘Daddy needs Hope.’
And He looked down at Mommy and said, ‘Mommy needs Hope.’
And He looked down at Rhema and said, ‘Rhema needs Hope.’
and you were born to us during the first week of Advent, our sweet Hope. Honey, I’m so glad God knew exactly what we needed and gave us you.”
“I’m glad He gave me you, too!”
“You are precious, rare; an irreplaceable gift. Just the thought of you brings a smile. I even miss you when you go to bed, sillyhead! You bring me inexpressible joy. I’ll take you over ten hundred million fifty billion sons.”
Yeah, she loves that story.
May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope…! (Romans 15:13)
And when asked what she wanted for her birthday she replied,
“A robot. To make my bed when it gets messy.”
Sniff. She is her mother’s daughter.