I've never seen your face, never held your hand, never spoke your name. It's hard for me to explain to anyone else; you're real to me even now, but you're not real to them... not yet. You will be.
You are growing everyday, and I pray that is both in your stature and your faith. You are changing, becoming more of a person and less of a babe. Every minute of everyday you are growing, aging, changing, and sometimes that seems unreal to me. Other times it seems far too real.
The realness is you growing up without me; it's you not having someone to laugh with, cry to, or depend on. It's also me not having you for those first giggles, tears and hugs. When you are here in my arms, oh how I will hug you - both when you laugh and cry. I will teach you to praise the Lord in your joy and to fall to your knees in prayer in your times of sorrow; I am getting very good at both.
I pray for you all the time, that you would grow strong, maintain good health, have enough to eat and have someone to hold you and love you until I can be there, until I can be the one who cares for you.
I pray for you all the time, that you would know that I am coming, that I am here - fighting for you, loving you, praying over you, crying out for you, and desparately missing you.
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