My dearest Patrick,

Finally, you are here. We have waited and prayed, your mama planned and labored, bled and wept; and at last you are here. You will probably never know this side of heaven, how many prayers paved the way for your arrival. Already you are deeply, deeply loved.

Believe this.

You are now taking your first breaths in and opening your eyes to the beauty and wonder of this world. It is rich with colors and texture, rhythm and movement, scents, sounds, and marvels beyond imagining. Your grandfather, I know, looks forward to taking you out to ramble about in God’s pottery shop. Yet this world, for all its beauty, is also filled with broken and ugly things, things which will grieve your heart and make you sad. But do not fear, dear Patrick, a plan is already in place and is at work to restore all things to their former glory. You have been called into this world, in this place and at this time, to play an important role in this unfolding drama. You and you alone have been given unique gifts which this battered, beaten, and broken world desperately needs.

Believe this.

Soon your mama and your daddy will stand with you in front of your family and church, and they will take vows. They will promise to lead you and teach you about the One who made this world and made you. Through these vows you will become heir to profound blessing. Someday you will need to decide for yourself whether, through grace and by faith, to accept these teachings as your own. Other philosophies will compete for your heart and mind, all of which will try to convince you that you possess the power and ability to appease whatever gods may be. But how could you ever know if you’re doing these things right? Or well enough? Your parents will teach you to rest in the work of the One who reached down and gave all to take hold of you. He has loved you with an everlasting love—love which will never end because, in eternity, it never had a beginning.

Believe this.

You will grow, and far more quickly than your parents will believe is possible, and will begin venture out into this world. You will meet people and attend school, and things like algebra will be hard. Then again, having inherited the genes of your father, and his father before him, perhaps math won’t be so difficult for you after all. You will excel at some things and struggle in others. Some people you meet will recognize your brilliance and gifts at once and quickly befriend you; others may not be so kind.  At some point, a girl may break your heart. You will meet people who seem awkward and lonely and in desperate need of a friend. I hope you will reach out to them. Trust that your value lies neither in your performance nor in your relationships. You matter because you bear the image of God almighty and he delights in you.

You have been given parents who love Jesus and love you, and who would willingly lay down their lives for you. They will read to you, and play with you, and work hard to provide you the things you need. Together you will create rich memories. Sometimes your parents will say no to you, and probably more often than you will want to hear it. And they will get some things wrong because they are young and inexperienced, and because the art of parenting is much more improvisation than science. Your uncle, the musician, taught me this lesson and helped me to  hear the jazz in life. As you learn and grow, you will also be teaching your parents to trust God more deeply and rely on him more fully.  Apart from him they can do nothing. And as smitten as you all are with one another right now, moments may well come when you do not like each other very much. But then you will learn that things like grace, forgiveness, reconciliation, and restoration are beautiful. And real.

Believe this.

I will not get to see you as often as I will want, and this will break my heart. I live far too many hours away from you. But God has blessed you with grandparents and strong, supportive family nearby. I trust them to look after you and help your mom and dad care for you. Even when I am far away, I will always love and pray for you. I will come to see you as often as I am able and when I do, trust me, it will be memorable.

Believe this.

All my love, Your Granny Nancy

If you would like to receive future posts via email, click here. And would you consider “liking” my Facebook writer page? If so, click here. Thanks–I appreciate you!

Linking with Emily and the imperfect prose community: this week’s prompt–Believe.