It's hard for me to grasp the idea that in exactly three weeks I will have a five year old. People tell you that it happens quick, and you smile and nod and agree... but in the early days with the sleepless nights, the tiring days, and the rampant emotions, it is hard to believe. The first few months seem to drag on forever. But suddenly you blink and it happens. Your child grows up. She is no longer sporting those chubby legs that can't hold their own weight. Her cheeks no longer droop like a basset hound. Her fingers, which seemed so small, can now hold a pencil and draw letters and numbers. The voice, which used to babble incoherently, now sounds out words printed in a book. And at every turn she vehemently reminds you that she doesn't need your help because she is a big girl now and can do it on her own!
And then there are the sweet moments, the ones when she curls up in your lap, holding on with all her strength and in those moments you remember how very small she still is and how very big her world must seem. In less than three weeks her world will get bigger with the start of school. Each time she mentions it there is more trepidation in her voice. She is scared.
I am scared. (Though I don't tell her that part.) In less that three weeks I will be letting go of a good deal of influence on her. Up until now I have had a pretty good amount of control over who she sees, what she watches, and what she learns. That is about to change. And that scares me.
So even now I pray for the people that will cross her path. I pray for kindness and grace. I pray that they will love her and not hurt her. But most of all I pray that I can trust God to watch over her, to trust His plan and His timing. Because even though it is hard to imagine, He loves her more and better than I ever could.