At age 2, she started speed dialing me. I loved that about her.
At age 5, she called my cell phone and informed me, “Aunt Heather, I love you, but I talk to you all the time. I don’t ever talk to Uncle Mark. Can I talk to him, please?” And talk she did. For 20 minutes. I love that about her.
FaceTime happened, and at age 8 she carried my electronic self into her newly decorated room, showing me the “not pink or purple” bedspread and curtains. Then she laid on her new comforter and told me all about some facet of life that I’ve now forgotten. I thought I couldn’t love her more.
But she did me in last night. The topic was recent school shopping and that one thing that was her favorite. She told me it was her binder – because she’s always wanted a binder for school – and her mechanical pencils. And then that sweet voice, “I LOVE mechanical pencils.”
She’s nine. She can’t wait for school. She loves school. I love that about her.
But soon, someone will look at her love of mechanical pencils and binders and assign a label.
They will decide that the her-ness of her is not enough. That the perfect plan of God in creating her uniquely, wonderfully, fearfully doesn’t measure up to some arbitrary standard.
All those labels. They are lies. The very opposite of truth.
My fervent prayer is that she she binds the truth of His love and faithfulness to her soul and writes it on the tablet of that beautiful heart. I pray that she fills that binder with page after page of the Truth. And that she scratches out all those false labels with her mechanical pencils.
I pray that she always speed dials her Creator.
I pray that she always pursues the hearts of others.
I pray that she spends time every day talking to her Maker about some facet of her life.
I pray that she BINDS love and faithfulness and truth around her neck and WRITES them on the tablet of her heart.