Mira turned three last week. We partied it up big time, but I needed to be silent for a bit here about it.
There are some moments that are so good, so sweet, you just have to hold them in your hand and stare at them again and again to believe they’re real.
We came home from Uganda with Mira just two days before her first birthday. I don’t think she smiled once, even when we gave her a cupcake. On her second birthday, she was definitely more comfortable, but she struggled to understand the cake or the singing or the crowd of loved ones around her.
But this time, y’all… she knew it. The day was HERS. The people in it were HERS. And I don’t think she quit smiling the whole day.
She reveled in her birthday balloons and her gifts. She smiled over cake-making and cake-eating. She sang, “It’s my birf-day! It’s my birf-day!” for two hours straight.
And every time the phone rang with a birthday song from loved ones or family came to give gifts and paint toes, she beamed with the joy of Being Known.
And her daddy and I haven’t really stopped shaking our heads in wonder. So forgive me if I don’t use my words any more than to just say, “Happy Birthday, Sweet Mira Jane.
We see the grace of God in the crevice of your dimple.
Thank you for sharing your smile with us every day.”