Baby Lady tells stories from before she can remember. We have told her so many times how Boy 1 called her “Sugar Cookie Princess”, Boy 2 called her “Cupcake”, and Boy 3 affectionately called her “Pizza”, that if you ask her about it she will tell you she “remembers” it all.
‘What did Daddy call you when you were a baby?” I ask as I twirl a golden lock around my finger.
“Daddy called me Precious,” she says.
“That’s right. Because you are his treasure, worth more than a thousand crowns or a million dollars,” I tell her.
She smiles. This little girl doesn’t know hunger of body or of soul. She is in a comfortable home with people who love her and care for her. There has not yet been a day that she didn’t know love and feel love. She has no memory of overwhelming injustice, or of fear or hatred ripping her world apart. Every real and imagined memory she has is full of love, acceptance, and security.
Eventually, she will move beyond this stage, and face what we all do: that we are fallen from grace and in need of a Savior. Someday, she will need to learn what all this love really means.
But today, I am learning so much from her. Because just like my daughter, I have heard stories from before I can remember.
you knit me together in my mother’s womb.
I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
your works are wonderful,
I know that full well.
My frame was not hidden from you
when I was made in the secret place.
When I was woven together in the depths of the earth,
your eyes saw my unformed body.
All the days ordained for me
were written in your book
