You woke up Saturday morning with a smile on your face. At first I thought you might have known it was your birthday but then I remembered that you do that every day. So on this your second birthday, I’ll continue the tradition I started last year and write you a letter.
This year has been a huge year of growth. You have left behind babyhood and turned into a little girl. You are sweetness and mischief all rolled into one. Your smile could melt even the hardest heart and you make us laugh every day.
Here are some of my sweetest memories from this year…
This year was a big one for new words and you are talking more and more each day. I love to hear your precious little voice when you exclaim that something is “Fuh-knee!” or stare down your brother with a mean, “Bumblebee!” It’s become a sweet tradition to say “I love you, Cambrie,” and hear you respond, “Much!” I pray that your words will always be loving and kind.
Rounding the corner to two means walking and running and exploring. We can’t turn our backs on you for a minute or we’ll find you standing on the kitchen counter or escaping the backyard fence. I pray that your travels will always take you on God’s greatest adventures.
As your second year of life draws to a close, I see new maturity in you every day. Like learning to use the potty and loving on a new baby brother. Making friends in your new neighborhood and learning to play nicely with your older brother (thankfully he has not followed through on his vow to send you back when the new baby arrived!). I pray you will always accept the changes of life with such grace and wonder.
Always remember, I love you all the way around the world and back again.
Much love, Yaya
Join me in this prayer for all our children,
I will sing a new song to you, my God;
on the ten-stringed lyre I will make music to you,
to the One who gives victory to kings,
who delivers his servant David.
From the deadly sword deliver me;
rescue me from the hands of foreigners
whose mouths are full of lies,
whose right hands are deceitful.
Then our sons in their youth
will be like well-nurtured plants,
and our daughters will be like pillars
carved to adorn a palace.