9:00 PM Sunday
Normal Bedtime routine...she prayed...David prayed over her. That she would be a light in her classroom...that God would continue to be her anchor at all times...that she would find favor in the eyes of those she comes in contact with.
You know...the typical Daddy prayer for his baby girl the night before kindergarten prayer.
He kissed her good night.
His last Daddy kiss to his little girl. For tomorrow, she would officially be a big girl.
I climbed in next to her and snuggled down for "Our song". As I sang the first line, the tears came. And I knew I couldn't control them. You see...these are the words that I have sang to her since before she was even born. The words are:
Tell me why, the stars do shine
Tell me why, the ivy twines
Tell me why, the sky's so blue
And I will tell you just why I love you
Because God made the stars to shine
Because God made the ivy twine
Because God made they sky so blue
Because God made you...that's why I love you
Ok. Here come the tears again.
But, as my tears started, Belle began to cry. I asked her why she was crying and she kept saying "because I don't wanna grow up!"
Oh, precious one. How much more I don't want you to. But God gave you to me to prepare you to be fully released one day.
I'm not looking forward to that day, you know.
She asked me to stay until she fell asleep. Of course I will my darling one.
So, as we both lay there...each dealing with our own sorrow, we talked. About things. Girly things. Mommy/daughter things. Thru our sobs...
Then, as I held her close, her sobs began to give way as mine increased.
As she snuggled closer, I held her a little tighter.
As she began to give way to the dreams in her head, I began to have visions in my head too. The ones where I sang that song to her the very night we spent our first night together in the hospital. Oh, and this story.
As she sighed as she slipped off into the twilight, I breathed her in. Deeply. Smelled of her...this little baby of mine...my Belle...my miracle gift sent directly from God's hand.
"Give and it will be given to you. A good measure, pressed down, shaken together and running over, will be poured into your lap." --Luke 6:38a
Thank you, God. Because she IS my "running over".