How Your Garden Grows Video

For some reason the video wasn't showing up, so here it is. Sorry the quality isn't the best. I was trying to get V to see me.

Birthday a bit late...My Letter to my Sweetpea V

Dear Veronica Storey,

You turned six four months ago, but I still haven't forgotten how you wore your blue dress with a big flower and Olivia red & white striped pants, eagerly awaiting to open that present sitting a top of the fridge. You my dear have weathered a lot in your little six years of life. Honestly, sometimes I feel like I'm more protective, not sure that you can handle it all.

And then, I'm reminded by people like your papa, your teacher, your resource teacher, your grandparents, Miss Shelly that indeed you are created to accomplish big and wonderful things. That indeed, you are strong. You are not defined by your sensory processing, or your handwriting skills. Not even your big emotions that are still tumultuous. No sweet girl, you are defined by much grander pictures, stories and images than I can even paint or sing.

I'm reminded of you in the womb and how the image of a girl with the middle name Storey would be a child who would have a powerful story, woven in God's great story. How this little bean would then show others to the best story--His story and how we are all apart of it.

You have stories and words and pictures dancing through your head all day. You are smart. Oh my, you really are smart and with it. And if I could press a button to release that which gets trapped inside, I would do it.

The days in which you cry, "Mama, I'm trying to control myself, but it's so hard and I can't." Sweet girl, you will have control. I pray Jesus over you, to touch you and empower you. To show this world that there is the One who is over all and delights in us.

Your ability to conjure up questions, to laugh at the small things, to say, "Mama, this is a delightful dinner--thank you!" You give gifts in the kisses and snuggles before you leave the house. Even when our mornings are rough, it's those kisses and hugs that give me grounding.

I stare into your brown eyes, and that soft skin kissing your nose and I'm blown away by your beauty. You are like me in your grandiose planning, while little want to refine the details. And like your papa in need of some down time to unwind. I don't think I'll ever meet a person so gentle and never in want to hurt someone.

And so sweetpea, just like when I met you those six years ago on a snowy day in January, I am smitten and thankful God gave you to us. I love you madly!

Love

Mama

How Your Garden Grows

V was in a play with the rest of her kindergarten classes at her school. She danced vigorously and sang with gusto around the house leading up to the Thursday. She knew her words backwards and forwards, upside down and right side up. Then, came the night of the play bursting forth in pink topped with yellow petals, she bloomed.

Sure, she got a little overwhelmed by the velocity of faces unknown, but in the small moments of her came out. I love how well I know my girl and how she dances to the beat of her own drum.

This morning while enjoying dutch pancakes, she shared, "You know what Mama? I don't know what happened, but I just couldn't remember all the words during the play. I knew them, but I hope no one was thinking, 'why is that Veronica not singing? Doesn't she know the words?' I hope they don't think, 'she didn't do a good job."

To which we raised our praise of how well she did and how no one would think that of her. I then shared my story as a seven year old girl alone on the stage singing to a cafeteria full of strangers. Oh the fright. But as you can see, she is blooming indeed.