Dear Sprout,

I have many happy dreamings and one-way conversations with you these days. I talk to you about how fun our life is going to be together with your dad – how we will laugh and sing and play! I ask you how your workouts are going when you get especially rambunctious in there. I try to imagine what it will be like to hold you, knowing that you are half made up of me. I speak encouraging, life-giving words over you about the kind of person you’ll grow up to be.

Sometimes thoughts of the future invade and the responsibility of molding you into the amazing man God designed you to be feels a tad daunting. How will we do it? Looking at the world we live in, I see so many people who exist with a poverty mindset and an entitlement attitude, lacking identity and clawing for scraps. What a miserable way to view the world…and what a miserable world those people create for themselves. I want so much more for you.

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As you grow, I want you to know that your dad and I will be here for you until the day we die because we love you and always choose you, not because we owe you. I want you to see possibility in the world, to view your words and actions as seeds you are planting for a specific, expected harvest. I want you to be an encourager like your dad, generously building others up instead of tearing down or undermining those around you to make yourself look taller (you’re gonna be tall anyway…c’mon, look at your parents). I want you to know who you are – a son of God, a prince, a prophet, a protector – and I want you to realize that identity much earlier than I did my own. I want my ceiling to be your floor.

I want a lot of things for you. I guess that comes with being your mom.

Then I remember. As my shape changes, as the number on the scale I fought so long and hard to bring down creeps higher and higher, as my movements (and internal organs) gradually shift to accommodate you, Daddy God is with me the entire time. He’s kept me healthy…level…safe. He’s given me the grace I need to handle all the change. None of that will stop after you are born.

I suppose it all comes down to faith; knowing that just as he has been with me through your incubation, he will be with your dad and me as we raise you. He will guide us. He will cover our mistakes. And he will give us the grace we need to be your mom and dad.

Little Sprout…I can’t wait to meet you face to face.

Love, Mom

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2 thoughts on “Dear Sprout,

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