Things that will mean something and things that will create a more magical childhood.
But in the back of that book, I've also slipped some letters. Words of encouragement for my sons. Sage pieces for my daughters. Things I wish I'd known when I was a child. There are also letters to my husband. Because I believe that when you begin a family, you create something, and you get to decide how it is made, how to cultivate it, what is necessary. There are things I will not fold on concerning my future children. There are things I want to instill in all of them, and I want my husband right beside me as I do it.
I want it to be an us thing.
A we thing.
A together thing.
And this is one.
I don't just want to preach this to my daughters. I want to live it out, and I want to marry a man who will illustrate it with a ferocity only matched by me.
This is important to me.
"I don't want my daughter to grow up in a world where she has to constantly wonder if she's beautiful enough. I want my daughter to grow up in a world where she constantly wonders why beauty is the most important thing for a woman to possess. Why is it greater and more valuable than qualities and characteristics like humility, kindness, gentleness, encouragement, a wild heart, a fierce spirit, strong shoulders, bravery, ingenuity, compassion, wisdom, intelligence, curiosity, and a life for Christ?
I want that to be the question of her existence, the one she presses towards daily to prove wrong.
Why does it matter most?
I want my daughter to hear words out of my mouth like, "You are smart. You are generous. You are selfless. You are capable. You can learn this. You can discover that. You can do it. You are courageous. You are plenty and abundant. You are cherished. You are incredible. You are Christ-like." And when someone looks at her and says to her, "You are beautiful," I want her to turn to them and tell them that that will not woo her, it will not win her heart, it will not rest in her bones with the weight that other words might.
She doesn't need to know if she's beautiful or not.
She needs to know if you noticed that she can climb mountains. If you saw that she can dance for hours on end because her legs have strength. If you understand that she not only recites poetry, but hears it thrumming through her blood daily. If you place worth on the fact that she is practical and able. She needs to know if you will ask her about Neruda and Dickens and Tolstoy. If you will reach your arms around her waist when she is ninety. If you can tell by that twinkle in her eye that she knows some of the answers before you, and if you're okay with that. She needs to know what your price is. And if it's only how she looks and who she is, rather than who she can be and what she does, then you are not the man for her.
She needs to know if you care that she is more than.
I want my daughters to view the world differently. Not by way of a rose-colored lens of beauty, but with all the greys and blues and smaller colors that we often forget. I want them to question everything in balance with what is around them and their abilities.
I want my daughters to feel eternity on their backs and an endlessness that brings hope, the weight of glory with insistence.
I do not want to subject my daughters to the cage of being beautiful, the confines of loveliness. I want them to have more.
I want them to be more."
I want that to be the question of her existence, the one she presses towards daily to prove wrong.
Why does it matter most?
I want my daughter to hear words out of my mouth like, "You are smart. You are generous. You are selfless. You are capable. You can learn this. You can discover that. You can do it. You are courageous. You are plenty and abundant. You are cherished. You are incredible. You are Christ-like." And when someone looks at her and says to her, "You are beautiful," I want her to turn to them and tell them that that will not woo her, it will not win her heart, it will not rest in her bones with the weight that other words might.
She doesn't need to know if she's beautiful or not.
She needs to know if you noticed that she can climb mountains. If you saw that she can dance for hours on end because her legs have strength. If you understand that she not only recites poetry, but hears it thrumming through her blood daily. If you place worth on the fact that she is practical and able. She needs to know if you will ask her about Neruda and Dickens and Tolstoy. If you will reach your arms around her waist when she is ninety. If you can tell by that twinkle in her eye that she knows some of the answers before you, and if you're okay with that. She needs to know what your price is. And if it's only how she looks and who she is, rather than who she can be and what she does, then you are not the man for her.
She needs to know if you care that she is more than.
I want my daughters to view the world differently. Not by way of a rose-colored lens of beauty, but with all the greys and blues and smaller colors that we often forget. I want them to question everything in balance with what is around them and their abilities.
I want my daughters to feel eternity on their backs and an endlessness that brings hope, the weight of glory with insistence.
I do not want to subject my daughters to the cage of being beautiful, the confines of loveliness. I want them to have more.
I want them to be more."
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