Tara is the author of Between You and Me, a ridiculously fabulous blog that has a little bit of everything.  A little bit of decorating, a little bit of fashion, a little bit of real life, and a whole lot of heart.  Tara has become a friend of mine in the world of blogging, and I am so happy she is sharing a little of her heart with us today.  I think you will agree it’s a good heart… 

After having two boys, I wondered how in the world I’d parent a daughter.

Seriously.

I grew up with boys on both sides of my family, and I was far from a girlie girl.

Wouldn’t you imagine that I would have been absolutely, positively spoiled rotten by my aunts and uncles?

Guess again.

They were all busy raising rough and rowdy boys, and they just threw me right into the mix.

My grandmother often said about me, “she’s as tough as nails!”

 It made perfect sense to me that God would give me those two boys.

It’s what I knew.

Truthfully, I never, not once, felt that I was missing out because I didn’t have a daughter.

 My husband and I had always wanted to adopt, so when we started the process,

we asked our boys if they wanted a brother or a sister, and they answered without any hesitation,

“We want a sister!”

 As soon as they gave us their answer, it was as if our hearts had permission to long for a daughter.

From that moment on, we ached for her, and our family didn’t feel complete until the day the day they placed her in our arms almost two and half years after we started the journey to her.

 For about six months after we got home with her, it seemed like we were going to parent her completely different from the boys.

I’m not exactly sure if it was because she came to us differently or because she was a girl,

but nonetheless, we were spoiling her rotten.

Needless to say, it didn’t take long for us to get our acts together, and I know we’re all better for it!

 We are called by God to love our children deeply and treasure them as gifts from Him and to train them in the instruction and discipline of his word.

The rest is their story with him.

 My prayer for our daughter is that she would love God and love others.

…that she would walk humbly and give God glory for her gifts and talents.

…that she would love mercy and show compassion to those around her.

…that she would trust God for her friendships and be the kind of friend that she wants in others.

…that she would be slow to anger and quick to forgive.

…that she would accept fully that this world does not revolve around her.

…that she would seek God with her whole heart for always.

…that she would have a heart overflowing with gratitude.

…that she would put all of her expectations and hopes and desires in God alone.

..and that she would understand that it is only because of the work on the Cross that Christ did on her behalf that she will be able to accomplish any of these things on any given day.

 I’d like to think that I have some sort of control over how she is going to turn out, but I don’t.

The best that I can offer her is to live my life out before Christ and accept the free grace that He offers to me in parenting her and my boys.

If you would like to tell us the story of your Mothering Daughters Experience, please grab a button and send me an email at playingsublimely@yahoo.com, I would love to hear from you!  If you would like to simply subscribe to Playing Sublimely and have these posts delivered to your inbox, click here to do, or go to the top right hand side of this page and enter your email address.

Welcome to The Mothering Daughters Experience at Playing Sublimely.  Melissa is the author of A Familiar Path, one of my favorite blogs.  She is a homeschooling momma to four children (3 of which are girls); and also happens to have an amazing eye for photography.  I loved reading what she has to say here, and I think you will too… 

Voices

I hear voices as I am making my bed. They are coming from under my duvet which is stretched out over the foot board of the bed, creating a tent.

“We go to Walmart tonight and buy you a little pool?” My oldest daughter says, mimicking baby talk to my two year old.

“I get little pool!” she answers back excitedly. “I wear my babin suit too! I wear my life jacket.”

Their voices, sweet and high from their dark cave are the background music as I work. I finish pulling up the spread, but leave the duvet as it is, leaving them in their private conversation.

……………………………

“You want pink or purple?” My middle daughter asks the two year old as she holds out bottles of shiny polish.

She’s sitting on the bathroom counter, the door cracked enough so I can over hear her answer, “Pink! Purple!” she answers. I sweep closer to the bathroom and peek into the door to see them reflected in the mirror, baby legs stretched out across the counter, toes ready for polish.

“No, just one. Which color do you want? Well, OK, we’ll do pink and purple!”

“Yeah! Polish my toes? Polish my nails?”

“Yes, we’re going to make you look so pretty.”

“I look pretty!”

…………………………………………

“That’s your favorite?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s my favorite too.”

humming.

“Listen to this one.”

silly voices. giggling.

Their muffled sounds carry down the hallway long past what should be their bedtime. My eleven year old and thirteen year old girls share a room, and I realized a long time ago that I was fighting a losing battle to get them to be quiet at night.  So, their voices, sometimes loud and excited, sometimes soft and whispery, are my bedtime lullaby.

………………….

My grandmother had four daughters. Some afternoons, after school, my mother would take us to my grandmother’s house where she and my aunts would be working in their drapery shop. I would lie on my stomach on the big, covered tables doodling in one of Mamaw’s notebooks that was filled with sketches of window treatments, measurements and figures. While I wrote my name over and over again, I listened to the women talk. They spoke of people they knew, scraps of the past and worries of the future. While the sewing machines ran seams in fabric, I stitched together a pattern for female conversation.

And now, I’m the listener again. Catching bits of sentences as I move from one room to the next and piecing together the story of three sisters. Sometimes it contains barbs, sometimes laughter, sometimes a sweet melody. I hope I never stop listening.

Melissa

If you would like to tell us the story of your Mothering Daughters Experience, please grab a button and send me an email at playingsublimely@yahoo.com, I would love to hear from you!  If you would like to simply subscribe to Playing Sublimely and have these posts delivered to your inbox, click here to do, or go to the top right hand side of this page and enter your email address.

Welcome to our summer series here at Playing Sublimely!    Curious what The Mothering Daughters Experience is?  The short answer is that this series-of-posts is an oppurtunity for mothers to share their experiences; their stories of raising daughters (click here to read the long answer).  I hope you like coffee and that you have poured yourself a cup before sitting down.  My wish is that we would gather around a table with our cups in hand to hear of the many blessings found in loving little girls, but since that is not possible, a computer screen with have to do.  If you would like to tell us your story here at Playing Sublimely (you do not have to be a blogger), please send me an email, I would love to here from you.

Today we will hear Kate tell her story.  I met Kate several years ago when I began writing this blog, and Kate was also a precious and loyal follower and encourager of our Moses Bible Study.  Kate is a blogger that writes all about her life at The Starr Family Blog, and she has become a dear blogger friend.    I’m sure you will be able to relate to what she shares…

Clothe Her in Strength

I remember holding my sweet girl one late, late night… rocking in her overstuffed chair.  It was just the two of us in sweet silence.  Her thick brown curls lifting in the light breeze of the fan.  She was soft and fragile, nestled in her pink furry blanket.  She smelled like heaven and held such hope, I quite literally thought my heart would burst.  Never had I ever felt such intense emotion, or fierce protection.  In that moment, I was absolutely overcome with real fear… my God was entrusting me with a precious life to nurture, teach, and protect.  I was scared to death. 

I feared, and continue to do so, the future.  I feared scraped knees, losing her in a dressing room, grape juice on white shirts, broken hearts, cavities, fender benders, and the rejection of the world.  My heart aches when I allow my mind to run away… with visions of grade school and cruel peers, taunts and mockery.  I want to shield her and protect that tender heart.  In truth, I knew I was only fearing for her what I knew to be my life.  I was looking back at my past and worrying it may be my daughter’s future.  That isn’t mothering, it is hindering.  I was stunting her growth instead of allowing her the freedom to rise.   I know full well there isn’t a suit of armor on this earth fit for the battles she’ll face.  I cannot physically prevent her from feeling, reacting, experiencing, doing, hurting… 

 

By the grace of God, I finally came to know what I could do and that is clothe her in strength, in God’s word.  In the short five years that I have tried my hand in raising a daughter, I have clung to one Bible passage in particular, Proverbs 31.  It is titled the Wife of Noble Character, but within this passage are verses and bits of wisdom that arm me in mothering and bless my daughter with courage to face tomorrow.  Could there be anything more comforting for a mother than real promises from a God that loves us?  He lays out simple instructions for a life of joy as a woman, ever so clearly and ever so pointedly.  These words have transformed my experience as a mother. 

“She is clothed with strength and dignity,

and she laughs without fear of the future.” 

Proverbs 31:25 

My daughter may meet the same people and experiences that I did in my own life.  It is likely someone will direct hurtful words her way, hoping to crush her spirit.  I have no doubt she will face rejection or fail to conquer each activity; however, she will move on in grace.  She will take the blow, feel the moment, wipe her tears, and continue.  For her mother wrapped her heart in words of promise.  God’s promise.  No longer is she held back by her mother’s fears.  Instead she is reminded: You are strong and able.  You can forge ahead, knowing there will be challenges and setbacks, but your heavenly Father has a future all set.  No fear of wallowing in grief or constant sorrow.  He will use each and every rise and fall of your life to condition you for the future.  And you, with those sparkling blue eyes will laugh.  For the future is bold and brilliant, not without uncertainly, but open to all possibilities and opportunities to glorify our God.  What a joy.  

Oh the world sees so little and such vanity…. A bow gracing her thick brown hair, earrings sparkling, dressed in blush pink; she is desperately feminine.  A room lined with dolls and books, her wants are few and far between.  She lacks nothing, materially.  Such a lucky girl, they say.  I am her mother, it is my duty to see that she is really clothed in strength.  That she grows in dignity, and purity.  It is my vocation and I love it.  I love being her mother.  I love hearing her giggle, desperate for what is ahead.  I am slowly learning that she is much like a mint plant.  She can and will grow when contained, but allowing her to spread is to watch her truly flourish.  And flourish she is, she has no fear of the future.  She has courage and confidence with just the right amount of timidity.  And as her mother, I finally see my visions changing…  I see a girl that swings on the bars, walks on the beam, makes new friends, takes risks, and walks forward in great delight clutching her mother’s hand.

If you would like to tell us the story of your Mothering Daughters Experience, please grab a button and send me an email at playingsublimely@yahoo.com, I would love to hear from you!  If you would like to simply subscribe to Playing Sublimely and have these posts delivered to your inbox, click here to do, or go to the top right hand side of this page and enter your email address.