The Waiting Walk

Dearest Baby Elizabeth…

Oh my, how little you were! Mom says you had red hair when you were born (was that the first clue that you’ll have a fire inside of you that will never go out?), but it will quickly transition to a very, very blonde. For the next 20+ years, being known and seen as a blue-eyed, long-haired blonde will be a core piece of your identity.

Before you turn three, you’ll have a little brother. He’s going to be a great playmate and friend. You’ll spend hours and days, weeks and years exploring your corners of the world together, reading books together, playing with the pets together, and yes, complaining about your parents together. Pretty normal kid stuff. You’ll look back on those days and wonder how you were so lucky. Those will truly be the “good old days.”

Because you, sweet girl, will be one of the lucky ones. I know, I know – we aren’t supposed to ascribe anything to “luck;” we like to say we were “blessed” instead. And you absolutely will be blessed. But the you of more than 40 years from now will choose that word “lucky” intentionally. To use another would imply that those who experienced trauma, childhood abuse, loss of close family members, and more are somehow un-blessed. You, dear girl, won’t deal with so many of those things until far into adult-hood. Does that mean you were more favored than those who experienced those things? Absolutely not. Someday you’ll be able to stop asking why you were so “lucky” and replace it with a radical acceptance of the reality that it just is what it is; a burning desire help those who experienced worse will take its place. And because of your comparatively idyllic childhood, you’ll have the inner strength to act. To help. To support. To fight for those who need someone to fight for them – starting with your precious children. You’ll receive such fulfillment from this…

You are going to fall in love with Jesus from a very young age. You’re going to hear stories and watch people and make decisions that steer you in a very healthy direction. You’re going to be one of the few that decides you don’t need to go out “into the world” and experience all it has to offer. No, you’re good right here, safe within the confines of the rules and religion you were raised in. You’ll always feel grateful that you don’t have to live with any permanent negative consequences of unwise physical choices along those lines.

But those “good” choices will have consequences as well. You’ll really like the boxes and safeguards and guardrails. You’ll love rules, even as you resist them. You’ll aspire to be perfect – and by some measures, you’ll get pretty darn close. You’ll skate through high school with straight A’s and a perfect behavior record. Sounds good, right?

But in order to be that perfect girl, you’ll squash a lot of your personhood; you won’t fully develop your own ideas and opinions. Fitting the “perfect child” mold and the “perfect student” mold and the “perfect friend” mold and later the “perfect wife” mold will take priority over asking the questions out loud that bubble constantly under the surface in your mind. Rather than digging deep into who you really are, you’ll take the easier path of being who you know others expect you to be. And you’ll justify that it’s ok, since this is the prescribed and recommended path by all the authorities and religious experts in your life. You’ll dress the part, act the part, talk the part, and live out the life that you see placed on that pedestal before you. On so many levels it will feel good and comfortable. And while the actions taken are often safe enough, the real you won’t actually be found for a good many years.

There will be a price to pay for that as well.

This conformity will continue into your marriage. Yes, you will experience love and laughter and enjoy so, so very much of your life as a pastor’s wife. You’ll become a mother. But you won’t really know who you are. So many questions, convictions even, will continue to bubble just under the surface for far too long… but you’ll just go with the flow and continue to try to fit into that perfect mold you feel like you’re supposed inhabit.

It’s going to take you more than 40 years, sweet girl, before you realize that those molds were never meant for you…

But once you do? You won’t even have words for how sweet, how beautiful, how RIGHT life feels when you’re true to who God created you to be.

Yes, someday, sweet baby girl, you will grow into who you were created and meant to be. You’ll actually feel confident in your own skin. You’ll feel comfortable holding and even sharing your opinions in so many spaces – even spaces where it causes some discomfort to others. Those thoughts and convictions will no longer remain below the surface but will instead bubble up and overflow in glorious goodness to those around you. And your desire to please will be replaced by growing comfortable enough in who you are to no longer need the approval from those around you. The need for everyone in your life to agree with you will be replaced by the understanding that love can exist even in disagreement, and that sometimes the safest and most loving thing one can do is to sever certain relationships.

These revelations and this growth will come at a cost. The journey to get there won’t be easy. And you won’t be the only one in your life to pay a high price for not acting on this sooner. But baby girl, hear me now, if you hear nothing else: it will be worth the journey. All of it. The confusion. The joys. The happy days. The darkest days of depression. The loves. The losses. The grief and the trauma and the heartbreak. The glimpses of hope through the deepest pain. It will all be worth it.

Someday, over 40 years from now, you’ll look in the mirror, and you’ll love who you see. And you’ll take a minute, or two or ten, and you’ll think back on everything that has transpired from this day to that, and you’ll appreciate just how lucky you were. How lucky you are. You’ll thank God for every single day of life that you’ve experienced so far. You’ll be at peace with each and every chapter that you’ve lived. And you’ll be excited for the future that still awaits you, the you who is finally free to be your authentic self. The you who know longer fears that she could ruin her future. The you who feels purpose in living now – in each and every “now” as it happens.

And then you’ll slip your hand a little more firmly into the hand of Jesus, and commit to living this life to the fullest. Each and every day.

So happy birthday, beautiful baby girl. You are somebody, and you always will be. I love you forever and always.

💖 Go live your blessed life. 💖