gazelle draws near

I am Mom to a sweet little gazelle.  Her name is Emma.

Oh, how we've grown together these past months.

From a girl who knew what "caregiver" was but had no category for "momma", she has had her heart changed.

I have a daughter.  Her name is Emma.  She now knows with her head and with her heart that she has a Mama, and that a mama means safety, love, soft place to land, comfort and help, kisses and presence.  Mommy is there.  Mom always comes back.  Mommy is forever.  I am her Mommy.  Her Mama.  Forever.

Emma has learned it is okay to be sad with a Mommy. You can cry and be hurt or hurting.  You can be grumpy and mad and all a-ruffle and you are still loved.  This Mama holds her and wipes her tears and calms her heart and doesn't walk away or let go.  And when this Mama can't calm her heart, she knows Who can, and prays with Emma to find God's peace and love in it all.

Transformation.  That's what I've witnessed.

Restoration of the years of the locust.  God has bought them back.  Redeemed them for Emma in so many ways.

This little gazelle has a heart that is blooming in trust.  What a privilege to witness it.

One day this week after lunch together and a heart to heart conversation about some things I'll share in a later post, Emma stood up and spontaneously asked me to take her "picture" because she wanted to sing a song for me.

This is what she sang (hao haiza means "good girl"):

Makes me cry every.single.time.

Blessed are we.  Parents of a treasure.  A gazelle who leaps in joy and security.  No longer fearfully scampering.  Our daughter.  Beloved, treasured, loved.

Five months.  160 days.  I number them blessed.   

God has birthed trust and belonging and home in my girl's heart.  Only Him.

Praise God from whom, verily I say, all blessings flow.

Amen and amen.