Hey baby girl,

Yeah, I know you’re not a baby anymore, but this growing-up thing is pretty overwhelming for me as your mama. I know it is for you too. But you’re handling it with more grace and maturity than I ever could.

Thank you for being my second-born, my only girl, my couture consultant, my mini-me in so many ways—but at the same time so uniquely and marvelously you.

I love how ridiculously talented you are, especially with your hands, whether you’re crocheting a teddy bear, or creating intricate earrings, or knitting a blanket, or painting your nails (even if I am somewhat disapproving of the colors you choose.). The way you focus on your projects (And there are many. Like, way too many) is something I admire. You’re not one to give up easily, even if the scale of the task is daunting and the hours you need to invest in it seem endless. But you take it one day at a time, one line of crocheting at a time, one brush stroke at a time—and the results are nothing short of astounding.

I love how see yourself as “sporty” and wear track pants in the house like you’ll be breaking into a 100-meter sprint any minute. I love that you’re into Star Wars and currently in “training” to wield a lightsaber like a pro. Also, you totally rock at playing the drums and when you hit those cymbals, I’m always like, “Yeah, that’s my girl!” You’re a quirky mix of sweet and sassy, of cute and spunky and fierce—I’ll never quite be able to label you or put you in a box, which is a wonderful thing in a world that is far too quick to classify and code.

I could go on and on. I love your tender heart toward those who are excluded. I love that you speak your mind but also know how to hold your tongue. I love that you’re a peace-maker and a justice-seeker.

Of course, there are some things that are still, shall we say, “works in progress.” Like, how stuffing things into overflowing cupboards doesn’t equate to cleaning your room. Or how asking for a phone for the 13856^th time just doesn’t work. There’s also the leetle business of eye rolls and those distinctly audible, “You’re so unfair, mama” sighs. But we will get to those things later.

For now, dada and I want to let you know that our hearts are exploding with pride and joy as we see the woman you’re growing into. (I know, cringey. But true!)

It’s our prayer that you will boldly and unapologetically embrace all God created you to be.

The world may prescribe that boldness looks like standing on your own feet when turbulence hits. But, baby girl, it’s okay if you’re weak because you get to fall into the arms of the One who won’t ever fail you.

By the standards around you, bigger and louder are always deemed better. But, remember that while you don’t need to shrink yourself to fit anyone’s mold, you also don’t need to puff yourself up to be seen. You don’t need to shout above the noise, or clamor for the spotlight. The thing is, God sees you even in the shadows where no one else notices.

Culture may propose all sorts of ways to “fit in”—but know that you were meant to stand out. You are called to be “set apart” for God and, sometimes, that looks like being excluded because you’re swimming against the tide.

I wish I could bubble-wrap you and mark you as “Fragile” so you never get hurt, so you never have to deal with rejection or loss or broken dreams. But I guess you’ll have to face those realities someday. But, sweet girl, being brave doesn’t mean being invulnerable. I pray that when you’re wounded, you won’t retreat, but you’ll continue to have a soft heart and a teachable spirit. (Also don’t forget to call me because I want to be there for all those moments and all the drama).

There’s so much I want to share on the eve of your turning thirteen. But I know that you’ll simply have to live life and learn from your own experiences. But baby girl, I pray and hope that you’ll know that you never walk this journey alone.

Your dada and I are your biggest cheerleaders. But there is One who loves you more than we ever could. Keep holding on to Him.

It won’t always be perfect. But He does promise that it will be good.

I love being your mom. Happy 13th birthday.

Love you always,

Mama

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