So, little ones, we've spent a year here. A year in this little corner of the world that we call home.
The place with the mammoth oak tree at the top of the hill that we wave to from our balcony. With the 19 stairs that we climb daily to our front door. With the kitchen that has seen countless peanut butter sandwiches, cookies made with chocolate, handfuls of sprinkles--some caught on the icing of the cake--most falling to the floor. With the creaky chair that rocks each night in the corner of your room where lullabies are sung, gentle kisses given, and prayers whispered.
With the long, wooden table your father made by hand, with grooves deep and legs sturdy, that has seen many meals, piles of folded laundry, color filled crayon creations, and finger-painted masterpieces. With the big bed in our room that your daddy and I share, but some nights fits us four, safe and warm.
All of these things make our house--our little apartment.
We've grown by another two feet here, we've cried, we've laughed, we've learned, we've sung, we've danced, we've deepened and we've been pressed here.
And I've been thinking now...what do I want most for you to look back and remember about this bit of earth, my darlings? What memories do I hope fill your thoughts when you think of the times we've spent here in our little apartment?
What anointing do I pray for over our home?
As I've prayed and pondered this, I am awed by God's divine providence and His all-knowing nature as He weaves the threads in our life tapestry, years ahead of what I could see. I look at the two of you and I see that the two words--the two blessings-- I hope most for this place, are reflected in your names--names that were chosen long before this place came to be or this thought planted seed in my mind.
My Ellie Faith, your middle name exudes who you are and it is everything that I want this home to be. You have a strength and a zeal for life, that I can't begin to grasp myself and only pray that one day I might have more of. You have an assurance and a confidence that is unwavering no matter the situation.
That time we waited behind the man at the store...the one who reeked of alcohol, dumping out his few coins, desperate for a single bottle to get him through his day? I tried to pull you back, holding you closer to shield you, yet you boldly and proudly walked up to him, speaking your "How are you?" and "What's your name?" Singing and chattering to him all the while.
In the elevator of the hospital, when you gave that stranger a huge hug and gushed over her beautiful pink, painted nails while dancing and curtsying to her.
Or when we walked past that homeless couple on the way into the store and you stopped, despite my efforts to pull you along, and crouched down in front of them and said "Hi! I love you!".
Oh, my girl, you reach for the most unlovely of creatures without hesitation and you don't see any difference. You are bold and unashamed. You don't cower in fear.
And that faith that you have? That trust that you show? That is what I want for our home. A faith that is resolute and never wavering. That doesn't back down or hide, but proudly reflects the face of the Father. That shouts His joy with confidence. A faith that shines bright in the darkness and sings even when the world tries to hush it.
And I look at you, my Milly Grace. My sweet, gentle girl. I want this house to be a place of grace. A place that is always forgiving and always welcoming, always gentle towards others.
You are so tender, little one--even from the moment you were born, you have had a gentleness of spirit. No matter what is done to you--an overly zealous hug from sister that knocks you over, or a toy swiped from your hands, or the times you are set down when you'd rather be held---you are forgiving. You are slow to anger and rarely ever upset. No matter how you've been wronged or how unhappy a situation might make you, there is always a quick smile that returns almost immediately. I pray that your tenderness will abound in this home--that we will be quick to forgive and welcoming to all who enter. That we will be tender towards others and their needs and have a willingness to break of ourselves and pour out for others. That love will abound here.
I have only to look at the two of you to be reminded of the anthem that should ring in our home. To be reminded of the faith that is strong and unwavering, resolute in what we believe--never bending to the ways of the world. But that will always show grace and love no matter who we come across or what we will face.
May there be a strength and a gentleness within the walls of this house--for the two cling hand in hand and there cannot be one without the other...
For you are saved by grace, through faith... (Eph. 2:8)
And that, my girls, is the glory of our God---that He would give you two to me and in doing so would give me daily reminders of what our home...what our lives... should be like.
I pray that as you grow and leave this place, as our family changes and moves on, that you will look back at our home-- wherever our home may be-- and that you will remember it as a house of Faith and a house of Grace.
