eight years ago, sitting in a waiting room at the doctor’s office, tom and i had just been told the news that our first child was going to be a little girl. this exchange happened . . .
tom: well, you know what this means, right?
me: what is that?
tom: dance recitals.
i was overjoyed at this thought as i remembered back at how excited i was as a little girl to perform at my own dance recitals for my family. in my mind i had visions of pigtails and tea parties . . . of pierced ears and twirly dresses. i had even picked out the most delicate name for her . . . lily.
when lily was born there was an instant falling in love that was so deep that i literally felt as if my heart was going to burst into a million pieces. she was an unplanned c-section and though i didn’t have the pleasure? of pushing her out, it was a wonderful experience in that operating room and was an absolute joyous occasion. i will never forget the look on tom’s face as we heard her cry for the first time and big tears filled both of our eyes. she had finally arrived. the little girl that we had been planning and praying for.
fast forward eight years . . .
this past saturday, i was sitting at a skateboard park with my family as we watched lily warming up for her first skate competition. i looked on as she waited patiently for her turn on each ramp and made sure to give her my attention every time she yelled for me to watch. she was by far the youngest person at the park. she was also the only girl. i couldn’t have been more proud.
it was finally her turn to compete and i watched as she masterfully balanced her board at the edge of the ramp. after dropping in, i could hardly breathe for the thirty seconds she was on the ramp . . . doing kick turns and rock to fakies as if it was a natural thing to do. there was my sweet little lily, my brave daughter, the only girl in the competition . . . so full of confidence and willing to put herself out there and be different from all the other little girls. i was beaming. in a million years i never would have thought that the first thing i would be attending of hers would be a skateboard competition . . . but i wouldn’t have it any other way.
lily tells me that when she grows up she would like to be a missionary who takes skateboards to kids in other countries and tells them about Jesus. i have no doubt that this can happen. God has designed her to be bold. He intended for her to be exactly as she is. i like to think that He was just as proud of me as i was of her on that day. it has taken me a long time to get to where i am with her . . . to honor who she is instead of mourning who she is not . . . to let go of my preconceived ideas of what having a daughter should look like. she is beautifully and wonderfully made . . . by a Father that loves her even more than I do. i can’t wait to see how her story plays out. i am so glad i get to go along for the ride!