Promise Me That You'll Give Faith A Fighting Chance

The day you were born, so many thoughts passed through my mind.  Mostly, I was just feeling sheer joy, pure exuberance.  You were a miracle - a miracle that came after a diagnosis of "infertility" and many roller coaster months of hope and disappointment.  I thought about your infancy, your toddler years, and your childhood.  I thought about you as an adult - with a career, a home of your own, and an identity that would sprout from your roots.  I did not think about this moment.

Tonight I sat in an auditorium at your sixth grade orientation, and I felt - vicariously - the nerves, anxiety, uncertainty, and excitement that comes at this age with a new school, new classmates, and a new chapter in life.  I wanted to wrap my arms around you, but knew I could not because it would embarrass you.

Those "middle years" were hell for me.  Girls can be so horribly mean.  Everyone is maturing at a different pace, both physically and emotionally.  I always felt I was the last one to cross each milestone - to shave, to wear makeup, to date, etc.  Those that had gained access to those rites of passage tended to rub it in my face to make themselves feel superior.  I was not attractive, I had hair that was changing from stick straight to curly, I was a nerd (i.e., smart) and I was not athletic. 

Sunday nights were routinely filled with sobbing pleas to my folks - begging them not to make me go back to school.  They would remind me of the big picture, including college, and I'd insist that I wasn't going to go to college - therefore there was no need to finish school.  I wanted so desperately to escape those awkward years when I didn't know myself and didn't know who I wanted to become.

I pray that it's different for you - better somehow.  I pray that having divorced parents doesn't negatively impact your sense of self or your upbringing.  I pray that you always remember God is on your side, at your back, and leading the way...that he loves you immensely and will protect you and guide your steps if you listen to his will.  And like the song we used for your baptism ("I Hope You Dance" by Lee Ann Womack):

I hope you still feel small when you stand beside the ocean

Whenever one door closes, I hope one more opens

Promise me that you'll give faith a fighting chance

And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance

I hope you dance.