Grace
On the morning she was born we were in a room at the end of Labor and Delivery, with James Taylor and Third Day playing in the background. Sunrise was peaking through the windows, lighting our room with warmth as it welcomed her into this world on a beautiful spring morning. With Kit at my side, we entered parenthood as she was delivered into our arms. Tiny and pink and covered in fuzz, she owned our hearts immediately. Really, she already had, but with her arrival we realized that life would never be the same as our hearts were now living outside of our bodies. In those first hours we looked her over and over, and started to memorize every detail, not just in our minds, but seared into our souls. No more music was needed, as our hearts were swaying and dancing to the marvel of her. She became the soundtrack to our newest adventure.
God was really just showing off by allowing us to enter parenting with her. While she had horrible colic and gave us a run for our money early on, she started sleeping through the night at 4 weeks old. Cautious from the very beginning, she encountered the world with curiosity and always loved learning. She had a vocabulary of about 300 words at 18 months. As most oldest daughters, she has always loved to please and work hard. While Jacob would spill his guts to any stranger about our life, she would hang back, speaking only after long deliberation and assessment of the questioner.
We both learned very quickly that with the arrival of our first child that we could be fierce in the face of any potential threat to her. We were like most parents in that we did everything we could to prevent her from harm or pain. I remember sitting in an ER over her first birthday, as she was sick with a stomach bug, and seeing Kit openly defy a rather noctious ER doctor when he chided us for not force feeding her pedialyte. I had never seen that side of my husband, as we are both people who like to please. But faced with someone standing in the way of parenting, my sweet, tender husband turned into a riled up grizzly bear.
She has grown into a lovely young woman these last 14 years. She is the picture of grace and strength. She leads quietly. She rejoices in her triumphs with gracious joy. And as we have come to learn the last 3 and a half months, she suffers quietly. We couldn't protect her from the suffering that has come to be a constant companion for her these last months. She is suffering as a result of the direct choices of another human, and she is innocent. I have not watched her suffer nearly as graciously as she has actually suffered. She is one of my absolute favorite people, and I am quite certain if she wasn't my daughter, I would want to know her, and have her as my friend. I aspire to be more like her.
Last year around this time, Naomi and I walked/ran the Beartooth Run together. We did a 5k entirely above 10000 feet. And it was not easy at all. But we did it together, and we smiled the whole way. She had wanted to run it this year with her daddy. As it turns out, we are running another race this year. We are fighting our way through her journey of pain to find a path to healing. Kit and I are by her side today, and will be until we help her through this darkness. Kit's running days are likely passed, but I have a feeling we will be with her next year at the Beartooth Run, needing her to cheer us on while we walk...as she runs on past us.
Her middle name is Charis. The Greek word for grace. She has definitely lived up to her name.
We both learned very quickly that with the arrival of our first child that we could be fierce in the face of any potential threat to her. We were like most parents in that we did everything we could to prevent her from harm or pain. I remember sitting in an ER over her first birthday, as she was sick with a stomach bug, and seeing Kit openly defy a rather noctious ER doctor when he chided us for not force feeding her pedialyte. I had never seen that side of my husband, as we are both people who like to please. But faced with someone standing in the way of parenting, my sweet, tender husband turned into a riled up grizzly bear.
She has grown into a lovely young woman these last 14 years. She is the picture of grace and strength. She leads quietly. She rejoices in her triumphs with gracious joy. And as we have come to learn the last 3 and a half months, she suffers quietly. We couldn't protect her from the suffering that has come to be a constant companion for her these last months. She is suffering as a result of the direct choices of another human, and she is innocent. I have not watched her suffer nearly as graciously as she has actually suffered. She is one of my absolute favorite people, and I am quite certain if she wasn't my daughter, I would want to know her, and have her as my friend. I aspire to be more like her.
Last year around this time, Naomi and I walked/ran the Beartooth Run together. We did a 5k entirely above 10000 feet. And it was not easy at all. But we did it together, and we smiled the whole way. She had wanted to run it this year with her daddy. As it turns out, we are running another race this year. We are fighting our way through her journey of pain to find a path to healing. Kit and I are by her side today, and will be until we help her through this darkness. Kit's running days are likely passed, but I have a feeling we will be with her next year at the Beartooth Run, needing her to cheer us on while we walk...as she runs on past us.
Her middle name is Charis. The Greek word for grace. She has definitely lived up to her name.
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