09 Jun As my daughter leaves me.

In a few days my sweet girl will leave the safe halls of Lighthouse Christian School and prepare for ninth grade.  So far I’ve been able to avoid freaking out and having a so-called “ugly cry.”  But it’s getting harder.  You see:

One touching tradition that LCS has for departing 8th graders is a “special item.”  In the words of Mrs. Moren, parents are encouraged “to send in a physical item with a paragraph stating how that item reminds you of them when they were young and what you admired [about] them.”

As I wrote Abby’s piece for her, poor Zach the janitor walked into my office to find me sniffling like a kinder.  I feel led to share it with you, because–though it is specifically geared toward my eldest child–deep down so much of what I wish for her is what I… what we at Lighthouse… want for all of our students.

[Disclaimer:  Please, please don’t tell Abby or your child about this until Friday at the earliest]

Abby, whenever your mama and I think of you getting older, we grieve a little more.

All through your childhood your special “lamby” was your treasured companion—it sat near you in your car seat, was cradled by you as you watched Veggie Tales (while sucking away on a pink binky), and slept next to you each night.

And while each of those moments is locked into our memories, one aspect of Lamby stands out the most:

How that precious stuffy comforted you.

At night, when you couldn’t sleep, you put Lamby’s fur near your cheek and quietly sang.

When life was stressful—as it often was, when you were a toddler and our family endured so much—you snuggled Lamby close and repeatedly rubbed his ear.

You even had a callus where your pointer finger swept past the webbing between Lamby and your thumb.

Sweet Girl?

As your precious, God-ordained life progresses, Mommy and I pray that you’d keep the Lamb of God as your treasured companion.  

As you walk with Him, He’ll abide in you as you drive, hold you close as you decompress, and watch over you as you slumber.

We pray that, when life’s worries steal your sleep, you’d quietly lie in bed and whisper to the Father.

As life gets stressful—and it will—please snuggle close to Christ, His robe brushing your cheek as you hug His chest.  May your fingers be callused from flipping through page after page of His word.

You are precious to your mama and me.

That will never change.

And God is crazy about you.

He always, always will be.