Hello, my daughter.
I saw your face for the first time today. I think you’re beautiful already. I hope you look like your mom.
I could see your hands. I can’t wait for those fingers to be grasping mine. I want to teach them how to make music. All in due time.
I could see your legs, too. Someday soon you’ll be able to stretch them, and there won’t be anything in your way. I want to take you on walks in the park. But I’m getting a little ahead of myself now.
I saw your heart pumping blood. You are not just alive – you are thriving in that little world of yours. I want to teach you how to thrive in this world too.
I’m going to write you songs. You’re going to love them at first. But I imagine there will come a day when they’ll embarrass you. But I bet I’ll write them anyway. And then, someday far from now, you’ll learn to cherish them again.
You’ll probably cause me pain. But it’ll be the good kind of pain. It’s the kind of pain that proves that love is there. The kind of pain without which our lives would just be numb and sterile.
I will probably stay up late waiting for you. I’ll probably stay up late praying for you. Where you are, who you’re with, what you’re doing…these will be the questions in my mind. Just be sure to check in with us. I’ll want to be sure you’re safe then – just like I want you to be safe now. If you don’t, I might have to take your keys away. But I’m getting a little ahead of myself again.
I gotta warn you, daughter. This Dad is gonna be ground zero for cheesy Dad jokes. I mean, I can feel it coming already. People think I’m funny now, but you won’t. You might roll your eyes, but deep down I think you’ll like it. Very deep down.
Thank you, daughter, for bringing tears to these eyes that had forgotten how to cry.
Thank you, daughter. You’ve already taught me more than you know. I am catching a glimpse of how my heavenly Father might feel toward me.
And I haven’t even met you yet.