(I wrote this to Emily a few days ago, just before Emily left for the US and I share it with her permission)
Dear Emily,
As I write
this, you are still asleep in your room.
In less than 24 hours, you will be on a plane headed back to the US and
into a whole new chapter of all of our lives. Yesterday, when you were out with
your friends and mom and I were packing your things, the reality of your
impending departure really hit home, and now waves of sadness have begun to hit
me. Yeah – your “tough” Marine daddy was
crying yesterday, and I am crying as I write this. I guess I didn’t expect it to hit me quite
like this.
Your mother
and I have known since God gave you to us that our time with you in our home
would be limited. We have tried to be
good parents, tried to teach you the things and skills you would need for the
day when you would leave our house and go out on your own. Now that the day is almost upon us, I have to
admit that I am wishing we could push back the clock a bit. You know that we have been joking about “when
the nest is empty, the party will start” – but now, as you stand on the edge of
the nest, about to try out your wings, I find myself filled with a mixture of
pride and sadness. Your brother and
sister have both “made the leap” just fine, and I know that you will be fine
too – our Heavenly Father will be watching over you and caring for you in ways
that this earthly dad never could.
You are an
incredible young lady. I know that you
are going to do well at school and that you will have fun – eventually. After the first few weeks of uncertainty, you
will settle into the routine of classes, with new friends and all sorts of new
experiences – some will be fun, others perhaps not so much. As you step out on your own and find that
your wings have more strength than you realize, we will be watching, and
praying, and bragging about what fabulous kids God has given to us.
I love
you. I hope you understand that. Nothing
you could ever do will change that. Nothing. Your mom and I will ALWAYS be here
for you no matter what. You may make
some decisions in the future that we might not fully agree with, but we will
always be here for you to talk through things.
As much as I love you (and there are not words in any language to fully
capture how much that is), I know that God loves you more. And so, as we did shortly after your birth, I
am giving you to Him once again. I am
praying that He will make his presence known to you as you step out into some
unfamiliar territory. I am praying that
He will provide for you all of the things that your mom and I didn’t, or
couldn’t. I am praying that someday (not
too soon!) He will lead you to a Godly young man who will love you as much as
Christ loves the church – and as much as I have tried to model loving your mom.
It helps to
know that in a couple of months we will be back in the US too – that we will
see you for the holidays. I’d really be
a basket case if we didn’t have that already planned. By the time you read this, you will be back
in the US. As you head off into unknown
territory, your mom and I will be back in territory we have not traveled
through in over 21 years – a house with no kids in it. It will take some getting used to on our part
too. I will miss hearing you out on the
piano. I will really miss being able to kiss you goodnight. I will miss seeing you in the worship
team. But just like closing out one
chapter in a good book, I know that the next chapter will have some pretty cool
stuff in it too. Let’s turn the page and see where it goes from here.
Love,
Your Babi
(photos courtesy of Kirlique Photography copyright 2012)
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