Then shall the young women rejoice in the dance, and the young men and the old shall be merry. I will turn their mourning into joy; I will comfort them and give them gladness for sorrow. I will feast the soul of the priests with abundance, and my people shall be satisfied with my goodness, declares the LORD. Jeremiah 31:13–14
Dear Tabitha,
In 2005, we got a baby for Christmas. A grandbaby. And it was you.
That year, on December 1, we met you for the first time in a hospital in the Chicago suburbs, and we were, of course, delighted. You were our first grandchild, and you were so beautiful: others can see for themselves. You were tiny and precious. You still are, precious at least.
All of a sudden, you have graduated from high school. Although I’ve thought a bit about the privileges and responsibilities of being a grandparent, I have, unfortunately, often been too busy to fully embrace them. The promise and potential of each grandchild (11 now) slip away unrealized as families grow and move, but as I wrote when you turned 15, you were the first: the first to have a new tooth. And the first to get a driver’s license.
You were also the first to find a passion and pursue it, although others are hard on your heel. Years of hard work as a dancer have given you confidence and joy. And you have become a leader in your local dance company and as a big sister. I thought then, and I think now, you are prepared for other firsts to come. You are grounded and poised, with a sense of humor and a resilience of spirit. Your love for others and for life is rooted and refreshing.
Now, as you begin a year with the State Street Professional Track Ballet program in Santa Barbra, you are moving on to grown-up problems and possibilities we can not yet fully imagine. God knows. And that’s good. But as you launch out on your own, here is my prayer for you:
May you continue to cultivate the beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which in God’s sight is very precious, and be like holy women of the past who conquered their fears by hoping in God.
May you love life and see good days. As a garden watered by the very Words of God, may you speak truth with gentleness and seek peace with humility and courage.
Like Miriam, may you lead others with tambourines and dancing, singing praise to the Lord, for he has triumphed gloriously.
May you find joy in God’s purpose and satisfaction in his goodness. And may his lovingkindness sustain you and strengthen you.
Always.
(1 Peter 3:4-6, 10-12; Exodus 15: 20-21)
Lady and I will be watching and praying. And we will help when you call us. We will be in our 80s in another decade, and you will still be just beginning your journey. But as we breathe, we will commend you to a God who loves you more and knows you better than we do.
Seek him. And you will find him.
I love you,
Santa
the daysman 