My girl.

Rebekah Jane,

You should have been asleep long ago, but last time I peeked you were playing with your bunny - holding it up by it's little arms and pretending it was dancing on your tummy. I couldn't hear for sure, but I'm nearly certain you were whisper-singing a little song to go along with the dance, one that you made up all on your own with silly words and lots of high, drawn-out notes. You are unbelievably cute.

Your 3rd birthday has come and gone and I've been thinking about this little letter quite a bit. I've been waiting for just the right window to sit down and jot my feelings towards you, to put into words the joy that you bring to our lives.

I love how 3 brought with it a dancing, singing, tip-toe walking ballerina. I love how you always have a song in your heart and you will sing it loud and proud from the fireplace hearth (I mean, your stage) to anyone willing to sit on the couch and listen. I love how you usually say, "Your turn, Mom" and nod me onto the stage next. And then - and this is truly my favorite part - your eyes sparkle as you clap with joy and say "Good job Mom!!" as if I just gave the finest performance you'd ever seen.

Thanks for inviting me to play with you. Even if I do have to be the wolf sometimes, I love that you want me to be your playmate.

Even though we have fun picking out your outfits (you always want to know "This match, Mama?"), I can't seem to keep you in them very long. If you had it your way, you'd wear a costume all day, every day. Tinkerbell and Snow White are your costumes of choice and, yes, I've let you wear them the grocery store and the bank.

I love how, whenever you get a gift or receive an act of kindness, you squeal "For ME?!?" followed by "THANK YOU Mama!" (Or brother, or whoever). Today we were talking about how you may one day grow up and marry someone wonderful like daddy and become a mommy too. You were thrilled with this idea, placed your hands over your heart and said "For ME?!? I get to be the mommy?? THANK YOU Mama!"

We've had our ups and downs this past year, baby girl. You remind me of the poem about the little girl with the curl in the middle of her forehead. When things are good, they are really good, and when they are bad they are....well, certainly not pretty. Funny thing is, when we come out of a rough patch and re-enter the glory days, I can hardly remember what had me so concerned about you. I see the sweet and amazing qualities rise to the top and they snuff out any memory of your moodiness. God is so merciful to us in that way, baby. When we are His, we don't have to sit in our sin - He pulls us from the mire and makes us new creatures, without even a trace of our old self to remember us by. How I pray that you will one day soon be His.

That you would come to know and love Jesus at a young age, and that you would find and marry a man like daddy (one day!) - that is what I pray for you the most. And for loyal, life-long, Godly friends. I pray often for that, too.

You take my breath away with how beautiful you are. I still look at you and wonder - all the time - how you are mine. God has made you this way, created you just how He wants you. But remember baby, while others may judge you by your outward appearance, God is much more concerned with the condition of your heart. Beauty, true beauty, comes from a heart transformed by God.

So, here you are, 3 years old, and I'm still pinching myself that I get to be your mama. I love that you're my girl and - at least for now - I love that you're my only girl. It's me and you and all these boys, and we do pretty good being girls together, don't we baby?

I love, love, love you, my Rebekah Jane.