Another cake, another candle.  Her birthdays come faster now. They told me it would go by quickly, but I didn’t truly believe them.  The days were so long…certainly the years would be, too.  But, they were right.  One day, I turned around and there she was…looking me right in the eye.

Really, I swear she was just on my hip.  I can’t remember the moment when I put her down for the last time. Did I kiss her forehead? Did I tell her I love her?

I don’t recall the title of the last book I read to her.  I hope that we laughed and I pray that I didn’t rush through it or sigh and ask her to choose a shorter one.

On the day she asked me, for the last time, to help her wash her hair…please say I didn’t grumble.   If I had known, I would have sat by the tub a little longer and asked her to sing another song.

This girl of mine has been watching me try my hand at parenting  for 14 years.  I’m a rookie at every stage she enters.  She’s the one I’ve said, “I’m sorry” to the most.  I’ve stumbled along the way and if it looks as though I don’t know what I’m doing, well…I really don’t.

She’s heard me yell about a messy living room and then answer the telephone with a sweet, “Hello?”.  She’s listened to me lecture her about not shoving things under her bed and then watched me slide everything on the counter into a laundry basket when the doorbell rings.

She’s seen the good things, too.  Afternoons spent painting pictures and reading books on the front step.  We’ve run through the sprinkler and gone on countless caterpillar hunts.  We’ve spent years playing backyard baseball in the summer and building giant snowmen in the winter.  She’s thankful that I was able to give her time even though that sometimes meant not giving her things.

This young lady knows better than anyone how far from perfect I am, but she loves me just the same.  She’s seen me work and play and love.  She’s shown me more grace than anyone I know and, for that, I am grateful.

We stumble through these teenage years together.  Some days are delightful, others…not so much.  The roller coaster is rickety and it seems like yesterday and forever ago that I rode it myself.  I don’t always know what to say.  Sometimes she doesn’t want me to say anything.

But, I do know this… since the day we brought her home, her dad and I have told her about someone that would come to save her.  A Rescuer.  A Redeemer.  Someone that would never fail her.  Never leave her.  Always love her.   We have told her there is nothing that she could do to earn His love.  He loves her simply because she’s His.  His name is Jesus and though it’s hard to imagine, He loves her more than we do.  He’s all she’ll ever need.

So, it’s in His name, I pray.  I pray for her and I pray with her because I don’t know what else to do.  I say that as if it’s my last resort.  Certainly not.  No, it’s where I begin.  I’m honored to be called her mother and I believe God equipped me for this job. I’m stronger than I was, but only because I’m learning to lean on Him.  I hope she’ll see that’s where my strength comes from…where her strength comes from.

Someday soon, she will choose her own path and I pray that she will ask God to lead her steps.  Help me, Lord, to be the very best mother I can be.

Now… and four candles from now.