My little Charlee, we have so much in common. Tonight I took you to the first day of Summer Bible Camp, which is a little different this year because it's at night and the whole family attends together. Daddy and I are going to take turns taking you this week, and last night was my turn.
You, my dear, are just so precious. We walk towards the chapel and towards so many faces you know and love, but tonight they are dressed in crazy costumes with makeup, etc. I can just see the look of concern on your face, like, "What in the world is going on here and am I going to be okay?" Rather than me reaching for your hand, you reach for mine. A gesture that says, "Mommy, please keep me close." And I love it because you trust me. You are excited and apprehensive all at the same time.
You are such the observer. You truly don't miss a thing. Never have. You reminded me that last year you got sick during Bible camp and that a teacher took you to a classroom and gave you a pink cup to drink out of and told you you were "clammy." Yes, you even remembered that specific word even though it's been a year since that happened.
The show started and you laughed, you asked a few questions, but mostly you studied everything very intently. And then the music started. Time to "get on your feet." Music at Bible camp means hand motions to learn. Yes, hand motions.
And hand motions mean doing something new that you've never done before in the middle of a group of hundreds of people who could possibly think you look silly doing them. And this means you watch. You watch, you study and you remember. You don't try a single motion.
And this is what we have in common. Your mama doesn't want to do them either. At. All. No thank you. Please don't make me move my body in such a way that might draw attention to myself. But these days, I do. At least I try. I try because I don't want you to know how much I don't want to do it either. Even after 33 years I struggle to let go. But I don't want you to know that. And you know what? When I do try to let go, I find that I kind of enjoy the hand motions after all.
I ask you if you want to try the motions, but you say no and I respect that because I understand. God has given you a mama who gets it, who understands your struggle. Do I want you to try? Of course I would love that, but I will never love you any less if you don't.
So, we get in the car after it's all over and, of course, you request to listen to the songs we just learned, but it's already quite evident that your favorite is "Our God". And I'd have to agree. Such a great song. We're cruisin' along and I smile and my heart fills with joy because in the rear-view mirror I see two little hands in the air doing the hand motions you just learned minutes before. Again, you don't miss a thing. You study intently and in your time you blossom. You continue to blossom before my eyes...in your time, which is ultimately His time.
I love you, sweetheart, for the daughter you are...perfectly created for me and for Daddy.
I'm reminded of something Charles Spurgeon wrote, "Who is better fitted to look after the child's well-being than those who are the authors of his actual being?" You were made for Daddy and me and we love you!