Monday, September 28, 2015

Sleepovers and Bedtime Stories

Ainsley went on her first sleepover on Friday night. I felt so grateful that such a dear family whom I trust and like so much were the ones to invite her. I had no hesitation in sending her to their home other than the swarm of butterflies in my stomach at seeing her off without me. She insisted on packing her own overnight things into a messenger bag designed to hold a few pocket folders and maybe a slender notebook. But baby girl managed to pack a stuffed animal, PJs, a change of clothes, toothbrush/paste and a full sized pillow into that thing. I'm reasonably sure the contents exploded into the house like a coiled up toy snake from a tin can when she went to unpack. 

The mom was dear enough to tell me she would call if Ainsley experienced any homesickness or cold feet and she would whisk her home no matter the time of day. I really thought I might get a call since Ainsley and I are together all of the times.  But the only correspondence I received was a simple text and photo of my growing up girl having a wonderful time out to dinner at In-N-Out and later playing happily in the home of her dear friend. 

It still seems impossible to believe that she's old enough to stay anywhere overnight without me. She has happily been my Velcro child for seven years now. Her favorite place to be is on my lap, much to my dismay when I am trying to see the computer screen over her shoulder. But I did miss her warm snuggles even after just one day apart, turns out. 

Her absence opened up a spot for Emerson and me to have some time alone, which is a rare treat. We watched cake decorating shows and made a simple dinner together. Dirk was under the weather with a cold so we submerged ourselves into a girls night without hesitation. In the girls' room, Em and I sat up and read stories together and after about an hour or so, Emerson said, "This is just the most fun." My heart was warmed to the very middle. She's ten now and isn't as keen to sit on my lap or shadow my every move, but she loves time with me all the same. When we laid down to sleep she asked if I would make up a story for her like I used to do when she was a tiny girl. 

I gladly told a tale of a girl who was as dear as anyone who walked the earth. She was so lovely both inside and to look at and she was in fact a princess by heritage, though she didn't know it yet. This girl was misunderstood by some who didn't yet know of her heritage, but she lived in confidence in her unique identity, even  before she understood the fullness of it. On a walk through the forest, she came upon the King's footman, who asked if she'd like an audience with the King.  Though she felt herself unworthy, she went with him since he was worthy of her trust and assured her that she would not only be welcome, but be received as an honored guest. She went to the castle with the footman, met the gentle and loving King, and was bowled over to learn from Him that she was a daughter of His and royalty was her birthright. Of course the story was about the very girl who was laying in the bed next to me, a princess of the Most High God.  I hope she'll hold the message close in her heart. I pray that she will continue to realize all that is hers as a child of God whose identity is unshakable and sure, whose birthright is glory.


4 Comments so far - Add yours!

  1. Replies
    1. Aren't you dear, Michelle! Thank you for these precious words.
      xoxo

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  2. Replies
    1. Thanks, lovely! That goosebump litmus test rarely fails me:)
      xoxo

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