Aria Hope is the first girl in a line of seven grandchildren.
Opa sets her tenderly in his lap, exclaims over her bubbles, over her tiny, three-month-old fingers and her gaping smiles. She’s got a wise face and it rests on his, lined from years of working the farm, and they sit there marveling at each other.
Around them, seven grandsons play trucks and wrestle. Oma is baking bread and buns and the air smells like cinnamon. I’m in the living room with Trent and his sisters, and we’re laughing over something, but I keep glancing at Aria and Opa, sitting together so quietly.
Children are not treated their size, here. They’re treated large, with huge bowls of ice cream and strawberries and lots of hugs and stories. Oma and Opa bend low to look in their eyes, see the mystery in there.
There’s something about looking in a child’s eyes. When they see you seeing them, they come alive. It’s like God bending low and placing Jesus Christ on earth — it tells people they matter. They matter enough for the big to become small.
My Dad came to visit a few months ago, and even though Aria was colicky then, he rocked her and he walked with her and he sang to her. And when she stopped long enough to breathe, he exclaimed over her perfection. And I wept at the redemption happening before me. When I was young, I’d longed for my dad to see me. Now he finally was.
There was once a little girl who, when she was just a newborn, spent nearly a year in the ICU. And when she was older and it rained, this little girl came inside and told her mother that the rain smelled like God. The mother asked her how she knew what God smelled like, and the little girl said, “Because He held me when I was a baby in the hospital.”
I think this is why babies have that special, fresh smell. They have been held by a loving Father who smells like rain. Aria knows who made her. She can still hear her Father singing over her. She can hear His voice, exclaiming over her beauty — over the dimples in her cheeks and her perfect little fingers and toes.
She makes bubbles and God exclaims, just like Opa, “How marvelous, my child! You are amazing.”
The world will try to convince her otherwise. The world, with its weigh scales and airbrushed magazine covers, with its Hollywood standards and its disregard of the spirit, will try to strip every ounce of self-worth from her. I know, because it did that to me. For years I fought anorexia nervosa and it nearly won. I believed the lie that God didn’t love me — the hiss the enemy has been speaking to women since the beginning of time.
But sisters?
I’ve since heard Abba’s lullaby. I’ve felt His arms around me. I’ve smelled the rain.
You, who’s wondering if you matter at all — you do. The Maker of the Universe knows the number of hairs on your head. He collects every tear you’ve ever wept, because your heart? It matters to Him.
Let Him bend down and look into your eyes today. You’ll come alive. Hear Him exclaim over you. You are marvelous. The freckles on your nose, the way you tilt your head when you laugh or scratch your arm when you’re nervous — He designed you this way. Your Abba Father treasures you. He is searching the horizons for you, and when He even catches a glimpse, He takes off down the path, His robe flying, because He cannot. wait. to. hold. you. To throw a party in your honor, prodigal daughter.
To bring you home.
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Related: Gift this inspiring cosmetic mirror to a daughter or a friend and encourage her heart with the truth of who she is in Christ — she is loved, accepted, beautiful!
Leave a Comment
Theodore Great says
I believe that He dearly loves us 🙂
Emily Wierenga says
Amen Theodore.
Southern Gal says
Beautiful, Emily.
Emily Wierenga says
Thank you friend 🙂 I’ve missed you! xoxo
Veronica says
Congratulations Emily on the birth of your daughter, Aria Hope. The image of God searching the horizons and running towards each of His children because He loves us so much brought welcome tears.
Emily Wierenga says
Thank you dear Veronica. I’m so grateful it ministered to you!
Anna says
Emily, these were precious words to me today. Thank you. My girls’ Oma and Opa sound similar to yours: I love watching them with our girls. I continue to struggle with a very low self-worth…I’m always beating myself up internally…and so it’s easy for me to start doubting God really loves me too, but you are so right and it is in watching my girls and also in the beauty of nature that I see that love in abundance.
Emily Wierenga says
Anna, I struggle daily to love myself. I understand this completely. It’s a journey, isn’t it? Love to you…
Anonymous says
Hi Emily
I guess I have yet to smell the rain. My Dad died this past January at the age of 82. Never in my life did I actually hear the words, ‘I. love. you,” from my Dad, and I am closing in on 59 years of age. I’ve been left struggling with all the little girl feelings, all over again, that I thought I had long ago forgiven. My heart does not grieve at the loss of my father, but only for the lost opportunities, the lost years, the loss of my last shred of self-esteem. It grieves me that I, along with so many other grown women with little girl longings, weep over the lack of a real “Daddy”, even though we have the Lord. Our Dads are “supposed” to be Jesus with skin on to their searching daughters, yet so many of us search the world we know over, looking for that one who will love us unconditionally and always. Instead, we look for love in all the wrong places and are left even more “hollowed out”, scarred, broken. Yes, I now have Jesus, but I’m still having trouble transitioning from the head to the heart. That HE loves me unconditionally and always.
Thank God, Emily, that you and Trent, along with the generation before you, have learned your own lessons well, now giving Aria all the love and affirmation and self-worth she will need to grow up as a secure and confident young woman, knowing Christ, the very Lover of her SOUL. The One thing that makes all the difference in the life of a little girl.
Beth Williams says
Anonymous,
I’m sorry for the loss of your dad! May God bring healing to you heart, mind and soul! I pray that you feel and know how much Jesus loves you unconditionally! You are a beautiful creation made completely in His image!
Blessings 🙂
Emily Wierenga says
Amen Beth.
Emily Wierenga says
Oh sister. I get this, I really do. I have tears in my eyes from reading this. I’m praying you smell the rain… Zephaniah 3:17…
Beth Williams says
Emily,
Thank you for a great post! I love the image of being held by a loving father who smells like rain! That brings tears to my eyes!
Blessings 🙂
Emily Wierenga says
So grateful it spoke to you dear Beth. Bless you. xoxo