My sweet girl, I’m laying here beside you, basking in the glory of nap time, a blessing I do not take for granted these days!  You’re snoring away- it’s not a sweet, gentle, ladylike snore, but a deep, manly growl of a snore, and it makes me laugh because it doesn’t fit that angelic face marked by rosy red cheeks and long dark lashes.  Your chubby hands are holding on to that blanket that’s wet (and, quite frankly, gross) from being in your mouth, because although you are now a big three year old, you still insist on shoving half a yard of muslin cotton in your mouth to fall asleep.  

As I watch you rest, I feel an overwhelming sense of peace- it’s the peace that comes from knowing Who holds you in His hands.  This day three years ago was one of the hardest of my life- I rejoiced in hearing your fiesty cry for the first time, and seeing your beautiful face that seemed so very perfect… But you were gone in no time.  I had a brief moment to look into your eyes, and as they took you from me I knew there was a chance our eyes might not meet again.  And my heart shattered into a million pieces. 

In those moments I learned what it is to accept that our children aren’t our children, but ultimately His.  Because as my brand new baby was taken from my womb and flown hundreds of miles away from me, she was completely outside of my protection.  I could do nothing for her- except pray, and trust the One who formed her.  

Our God has used you in mighty ways these past three years, Harper.  You’ve given me a lot of scares, a lot of tears, an enhanced medical vocabulary, worries and anxieties I never knew possible, and a lot of gray hairs and wrinkles… But you’ve also given me a new purpose in life, a renewed focus on what matters, a stronger faith, a reminder of true hope, an endless source of joy.  

I don’t know what the journey holds for us in the next three years, but I know Who does, and I know His plans are for our good.  I’m forever grateful that He chose me to be your mom.  Happy birthday…