My 35th birthday is quickly approaching and I’ve been reflecting on the woman I am and the woman I hope Faith becomes. I try to imagine the woman she will grow up to be. Then I remember, I’m the one who will teach her to be that woman. I’m not even sure I know how to be the woman I want to be yet.
Having a daughter is an awesome responsibility. And I’m not just talking “hey, that’s pretty cool,” though it definitely is. I’m talking about an overwhelming sense responsibility that leaves me in awe. It’s actually kind of scary. There are probably just as many things I want to pass on to her as there are things that I don’t. I hope she inherits my confidence in my intelligence, but I hope she doesn’t inherit my struggles with self-esteem and body image. I hope she gets my passion for orderliness, but not my inability to adapt when things don’t go exactly as planned.
There are so many things I want to teach Faith. But at the same time, I know there are some things she’ll have to learn through her own experiences. And as much as I want to protect her from every hurt or bad experience, I’m reminded by the scrape on her forehead that I can’t always shield her–though I will certainly try. Though I can’t always protect her, I can hope to teach her to be completely and utterly dependent on God. If she can successfully learn that, I know that no matter who she becomes, I’ll be proud.