EIGHT

To my dear, sweet Blythe Kathleen,

When I dreamed of being a mom, I mostly pictured myself rocking babies and changing diapers. When you're 16 years old, you don't necessarily think of raising big kids and teenagers. And here we are, at eight, on the brink of all of that, and I can't believe I never dreamed of it because it is truly wonderful. The number eight still takes me back a little-- it has all gone so incredibly quickly-- but you are growing more and more beautiful [body and soul] every passing day.

This past year has been a big year for you: you started piano lessons shortly after your last birthday. You have such an ear for music, and your teacher has even been teaching you how to play by ear some as you learn all the other basics, because she said that is either something you have or don't have. It's been fun to watch your love for music grow in this new way, and to have our home filled with the sound of music coming from your hands.

 You also started second grade... and absolutely have had a blast this year with your classmates and your teacher. You've learned so much from continents, to writing paragraphs surrounding a main idea, to now starting multiplication! You eat it ALL up, and you're reading voraciously now. You are still incredibly creative as well, and love all your specials outside of the regular classroom. You also "wrote a chapter book" this year titled, "Believe" about a unicorn and a girl named Jayme. You told me you hope to write more books.

 Most importantly this year you asked Jesus into your heart and told us you wanted to get baptized. One night, from the back seat of the van, you started telling me about how you had asked Christ into your heart one night while you were laying in bed. You told me you knew you were a sinner-- that your "heart was sick"-- and that you needed a savior because of that. And then you said you wanted to get baptized. We took you out for a special supper to talk about what all that meant and looked like, and we told you that we will be watching for the fruits of the Spirit in your life. When I see you get up to help Sloan so I can keep reading to your sisters, I see the fruit of kindness. When I see you waiting your turn to talk at the dinner table instead of shouting over others, I see the fruit of patience and self-control. When I see you letting your sisters have their first choice in something and you take what is left, I see the fruit of love and peace. And everyday I see the fruit of joy in a million ways in your life.

Your dad baptized you, and before he did he shared how 8 years ago we were preparing for your birth and thinking about your name. He shared how we chose your name, Blythe, because it meant "joy" and how we prayed you would bring joy and be joy to others. And he shared how we also chose it because it was the last name of some very special like-family friends of ours. And then he said that that day you were being reborn, into the joy of Christ that you can now bring to others, and that you were also getting a new family now as a believer. I hope you always remember that other birthday, even now as we celebrate this one.

It made me remember when you were born and they laid you on my chest and it was truly and other-worldly experience. It's a moment when God parted the curtain back a crack and we saw a little of His mysteries and miracles first hand. It's more than I believe we were made to comprehend. I've been studying baptism this year some--what it looks like biblically and why we are called to it and what it does-- and it does do something. No, you don't raise out of the water and see angels around you or feel lighter or brighter, but I think it is like that other moment: I think God parts the curtain back a crack and see a little of His mysteries and miracles first hand. For years I have prayed this very simple prayer over you and your siblings: "God, may you give Blythe ears to hear you, eyes to see you, and a heart that know and follow you." As I helped you change out of wet clothes that Sunday, I thought of that prayer, and I promise you I will continue to pray it.

 Right now is a really weird time in this world as we are facing the Coronavirus. Your school is shut down right now and you were so sad to miss out on any time with your teacher and friends and learning, but you are really one of the most go-with-the-flow kids I've ever met, and have been a champ about everything. This is the third year in a row something crazy has happened on your birthday at school [by far the craziest though!], and every year I'm impressed at your ability to just be okay with whatever cards you're being dealt. Birthdays are a big deal when you're young, but you somehow realize already that there are people and life being lived beyond your little world, and that's really a profound thing to realize so young.

I think a really good picture of who you are right now was on Valentine's Day: You wanted to make everyone a perler bead creation. You wrote a little, individual note on each and everyone for your friends, such as "you are funny", "you are smart", or "you are creative." And you told me why you were giving the dog one to so so ["Because he has a dog named___"], and each one you had a story for and knew why you picked it for your classmate. You care and love well and you notice and you listen to others. I learn so much from you, and want to be like that for the people around me.

 You finally lost some teeth this year-- three on the bottom, but still have your front teeth! You love, love, love to ride your bike up and down our street. When you hear interesting facts you latch on to them and remember them [like how many steps are on the Lincoln Memorial and why]. You can make a game out of anything. You love to wear your cowboy boots over most other footwear. You have a sweet tooth that almost matches your dad's [which is saying something!], and you love to come up with new jokes and stories and I will find them written down on pieces of paper all over the house. You are funny and thoughtful, smart and goofy. You still asked for a horse for your birthday, but you want a dog now, also. 

Your dad and I are so proud of the girl you are becoming, and we are so excited for your journey with Christ which is now beginning. Right now it is Lent and we keep blowing out a candle each week and talking about how dark the world was the night He died on the cross; how the Light of the world was put out. But Easter always comes and we rejoice in a Savior who overcame death on our behalf. And Blythe, now that you are in Christ our prayer is that you would bring and be that Light to others. The world feels very dark right now, but our Hope is elsewhere, and to get to share my days with a little Light-bearer like you is a gift I do not deserve.

 As our oldest, you get to be the first to figure a lot out in our house, and I know it is going to take a lot of growth on our part as your parents. But I hope you know that now, at age 8, and later at age 13, and later yet at age 25, we will always be trying our best to love and raise you. And like I have said in all my letters to you: we hope you understand the why behind our no-s. We hope you feel safe in the boundaries we set. We hope you feel freedom in the wide open places we leave for you. We hope you see God in our actions and in our words. We hope when you leave our little home for good and go out on your own that you'll look back on this simple little life we had together-- chaos and mistakes and messes and all-- and see that is was Grace that held us together; that you see that it was God's daily bread that provided it all.

Blythe, you are an absolute joy to be around, and we are so grateful you are ours to love.

Happy birthday, Blythe Kathleen! There is nothing you will ever do that will make us stop loving you!