I witnessed her first try.
Stumbling, she would clutch my thumb for anchor as she straddled for a few more steps. A wild grin would break as a tiny trek assumed a giant leap.
Bianca always fluttered with her feet. She ran instead of walking. Every hallway was a track. Every living room a field. So much joy compounded in her limbs.
I have always pondered what sort of a woman is she racing into.
The wise man Solomon spoke of a way of training of which every child ought to pursue. In deep searching, I pleaded for clarity on how I might usher my youngest to this chosen path.
I have since discovered the joy of knowing that the journey has long been set. Fearfully and wonderfully prepared by the One who brought her to us, in the first place.
All the steps were choreographed well even before she was born.
Faith beckons her simply to follow His lead.