To my daughter

Dear Rachelle,

I've been having a lot of dreams about you lately. All good of course. Mainly about giving birth holding your tiny little body next to mine. And of course I've been preparing for your arrival. Washing your clothes, setting up your bed, installing your car seat... And all this preparing has me thinking about you. What kind of preparations are you making for this journey you're about to embark on? I think about what you're doing often. Are you saying temporary goodbyes to those you love on the other side? Learning a few final things that will sustain you here? Soaking in your last moments with our Father?

Or are you already here, waiting to take your first breath and make your introduction into this journey called mortality? I wonder if you know what awaits you. If you're aware of the choice you made. Yes, I know you realize the fundamental differences between the world you're leaving and this world, but there is some knowledge that can only come from experience.

I think of Adam and Eve, living in the Garden of Eden, in a state of peace, tranquility, and beauty - not unlike your current existence. Yet they chose to leave that state of what some call paradise to live here, in this fallen world, full of disease and despair, heartache and hopelessness, sadness and sin. Why would they do such a thing? Because they yearned to grow, to progress, and to feel the joy that comes in a world with sadness. I'm sure fundamentally they knew what this world would be like, but I'm also certain that they were shocked by the true depth of horror and sadness this world had to offer. That knowledge could only come from experience.

But they also experienced joy that they had never before known either. It was a joy that they knew existed, that they understood our Father to have, but they couldn't taste it in their state of innocence and ignorance in the Garden. Which is why they made their choice.

You and I have made the same choice. And I will tell you that I continue to be shocked by the depth of sadness and grief that we experience through mortality. I have experienced loss and heartbreak, at times more than I thought I could bear. I continue to be horrified and saddened by the violence and evil man can inflict upon one another.

But along with this I have felt a deeper level of joy and love than I thought possible. Deeper than anything I could have experienced before. The love I feel for your father. The joy I felt at holding your sister for the first time. The love I already feel for you. Feelings of love and joy that help me understand our Father better.

As your mother, I promise to love and protect you. To create a safe and peaceful haven from the horrors of this world. To teach you true principles that will bring you happiness - not fleeting happiness, but eternal happiness and joy. I promise to do my best to lead you back to our Father's presence, helping to keep you as unblemished as possible. And to maintain the cleanliness and purity you are coming into this world with for as long as possible.

I don't know how long I will be with you for this mortal experience, but I know that you and I are inseparably woven together in the tapestry of God's creations. Because of covenants your father and I made together at the Lord's altar, you are mine forever. I am so grateful you are coming to join our family.

All my love for all eternity,
Your Mother