Letters From Me, To You: Strength

Here we go again.

Guys, I've had lotsa thoughts swirling and pushing each other around in my head, and someday I'd like to talk with you about them.

Ideally, I'd like to start that today. I don't know that I've pinned any of them down enough to where they would be lucid though. I think I'll make another list, so that I can write said thoughts in a comprehensible manner sometime soon.

I did find my last blog topics list! Did I tell you that?

I think one of them can be wrapped up fairly succinctly, so I'll use that for today.

If you haven't noticed from my obnoxious amount of Evelyn posts on social media, let me tell you that the girly is crawling, sitting up, and pulling herself up to standing now. (She started crawling the week before Christmas, sitting up the week after, and pulling up to standing right after the first of the year.)

She is getting braver every day. She not only follows us from room to room without seeing us, but will now also leave the room we are in to explore a different one on her own. Yay.

As you may expect, this new exploring, daredevilish Evelyn falls down every once in a while. She gets a little cocky and thinks she doesn't need any hands to hold her upright by that couch or table. She thinks it might be a good idea to stand next to that bookshelf corner. She enjoys playing with her walker toys from the outside of the walker. Sometimes she just plain loses her balance or leans too far and bonks her head.

I would love to scoop her up in my arms each time and coddle her and kiss her and hold her. But she doesn't need that. Ok, sometimes she does. But want to know what happens in the first five seconds after 95% of her spills? She has a cry or a whine, and then she is perfectly alright and goes about her business of playing.

Each time I am on the edge of my seat, ready to scoop her up if need be, but if it is part of the 95%, I try my best to let her calm herself because it only takes seconds, and I want her to be tough.

Well, a few months ago I read You and Me Forever by Francis and Lisa Chan. He said that he prayed for his kids to go through trials.

And I was all, "Whaaaaaaaaa??"

Because when I look at my sweet, little baby girl I want her life to be all unicorns and rainbows and butterflies and not a hint of pain or heartbreak. The very thought of her experiencing real physical or emotional pain just cuts me to the core. (Ask my mom about the night we thought Evelyn's teeth were really bothering her-- I. broke. down.)

It makes sense to me that we don't want to do everything for her or give her every single thing her heart desires because we don't want a spoiled, entitled, enabled brat. I get that. Easy-peasy. But to pray for her to experience trials?! Ugh! Why? Letting her pick herself up from a small topple is one thing, but real life struggles?

Well, wouldn't you know- he makes valid points on the subject.

"We need a generation of parents who care far more about the strength of their children than their comfort, wealth, health, and love for their parents."

"If trials are the channel through which strength comes, wouldn't we want some trials?"

"Easy circumstances do not cultivate strong children."

And do I want my girl to be strong?

...yes...

Do I think I'm ready to start praying for her to face trials? Oo. That may take more prayers for strength for myself first.

Well, she is requiring some attention right now, so I'm done aside from some photos from the second half of our Christmas break!