Jovie is TEN

My Most Precious Treasure,

DOUBLE DIGITS. How in the actual world are you TEN?!? I have written some version of that sentence every year of your life, and somehow this one feels impossible. TEN. An entire decade of Jovie. Ten years since you came flying into this world, apparently in such a hurry to start living that the doctors didn’t even have time to make it to your birthday party. And honestly, that feels pretty fitting for you. You have been living BIG ever since.

I wish I could adequately put you into words. I have tried every year for the last ten years and every year I come up short. You are incredible. You are talented and smart and hilarious. You are wildly empathetic and tender and strong. You have a gigantic personality and the most beautiful heart. You are confident and silly and capable of making us laugh until our stomachs hurt. You are somehow SO grown up and still so wonderfully little.

And that might be my favorite thing about you at ten.

You can understand these enormous concepts and have conversations that sometimes make me forget that you are only ten years old. You read a room better than most adults. You notice people. You don’t just hear what someone says—you somehow understand what they’re feeling. You know when to celebrate with someone and you celebrate BIG. But even more remarkably, you know when someone is hurting and you aren’t afraid to sit right there in the pain with them.

And then five minutes later you’re playing Barbies or taking care of your baby doll August.

I LOVE that about you.

I love that you are growing up without being in a hurry to grow out of the things you love. I love that you can be incredibly mature and insightful and then disappear into the magical little world of your imagination. I love that you are big and little all at once. Please don’t ever rush through that, sweet girl. There is plenty of time to grow up. Hold onto every little bit of childhood magic for as long as you possibly can.

You are also just ridiculously talented. Gymnastics is still such a huge part of your world and watching you work and learn and push yourself is so much fun. But this year you also decided to try softball and, because apparently you can just do ALL THE THINGS, you fell in love with it. You made the Diamond Dusters and were SO excited to play, only to realize that your gymnastics meets conflicted and you couldn’t do both. I have a feeling softball isn’t finished with you yet. There is something so fun about watching you discover something new and realize, wait…I’m good at this too!

But Jovie, as proud as I am of the things you can DO, they aren’t even remotely close to what makes me most proud of you.

It’s who you ARE.

This year has asked more of you than I ever wanted it to.

My breast cancer diagnosis changed our world in ways I wish it hadn’t. There have been scary conversations and appointments and tears and a whole lot of uncertainty. There have been moments when I desperately wished I could shield you from all of it and let you just be ten. I hate that in some ways you’ve had to grow up a little faster than I wanted you to.

But somehow, through all of it, YOU have taken care of ME.

You are always by my side. You know when I need a snuggle without me saying a word. You see tears forming in my eyes when one of my favorite worship songs comes on and quietly reach over to wipe them away. You crawl into bed and snuggle with me every night. You don’t try to fix everything. You just stay close.

Jovie, I don’t know if you’ll understand how extraordinary that is until you’re much older.

You have this almost unbelievable ability to read people. To know when someone needs your gigantic Jovie energy and when they just need you to sit beside them. You celebrate with people when life is good and somehow, at only ten years old, you’ve learned how to sit with people when life hurts.

That is a gift.

And while I would take every ounce of pain and uncertainty away from you if I possibly could, I am in absolute awe of the person I have watched emerge through it. You have handled something really hard with more grace, empathy, faith, and love than I could have ever asked of you.

Sweet girl, someday you’ll realize that the greatest gifts God gives us aren’t always the ones that get trophies or applause. Your gymnastics ability is incredible. Your intelligence will open doors. Your confidence and personality will take you places. But your ability to SEE people—to walk into their joy and celebrate with them and to walk into their pain and sit beside them—is something this world desperately needs.

I hope you protect that tender heart forever.

Ten years ago, I prayed over my tiny baby girl that God would raise you up to be a mighty woman who stands for the good of all. That you would fight for justice, mend the brokenhearted, break barriers, and love deeply.

And now I get to watch it begin.

At ten.

So today, just as I have every year, I pray this prayer over your life…

Jesus,

I lift up my sweetest baby girl to you. In my weakness and shortcomings as a mom, you are so very strong. You have created an absolute masterpiece in Jovie Kalei Pentz. I am constantly in awe at the wonder of who she is. She is wild and crazy, yet gentle and loving. She is gorgeous beyond words and precious beyond measure. Jesus, take her precious life and hold it so close to your heart. It is my deepest desire that she would come to know you and the power of your resurrection. That she would love and serve you and love and serve your people with every fiber of her being. And that she would be deeply loved in return. Jesus, raise her up to be a mighty woman that stands for the good of all and points people to you. May she fight for justice, mend the brokenhearted, break barriers, and love deeply. May you lead her, guide her, and let your amazing grace fall upon her as she fights back the darkness for your name. Jesus, give her incredible confidence and strength as she pursues the life that you have called her to. Oh Lord, it is my greatest honor and privilege to be her mom. I dream of the day that I will hear her name announced as she walks across the stage to receive her high school diploma, and then her college diploma and beyond. I can picture it now, seeing sweet Jovie in a white gown as the most beautiful bride. Jesus, I pray for her future spouse, that he would love her like you do and lay his life down for his bride. And I have tears in my eyes even now as I imagine the day that Jovie becomes a mom and instantly knows this crazy and incredible love that I feel for her. Jesus, thank you so much for her precious life. Thank you for the gift that she is to our family. Lead her. Guide her. Let your grace wash upon her. She is your beautiful daughter and I am humbled at this opportunity to love her every day of her life.

Amen.

My precious Jovie, I don’t know what the next decade holds. If the first one is any indication, I know it will be filled with a million adventures, belly laughs, dance parties, gymnastics meets, giant dreams, ridiculous shenanigans, tears, triumphs, and more joy than I could ever put into words.

But I do know this.

For ten years, I have had the absolute privilege of watching you become you. And somehow, the tiny baby girl who captivated all of us from the moment she arrived has become this extraordinary little human who still captivates us every single day.

Keep your Barbies. Keep loving August. Keep doing gymnastics. Play softball again. Sing the songs. Snuggle with your mama. Laugh ridiculously loud. Feel things deeply. Celebrate people loudly. Sit with them quietly. Never make yourself smaller for the comfort of the world around you. And above everything else, keep loving Jesus and loving His people with that gigantic, tender, beautiful heart of yours.

You are still my baby girl.

You will always be my baby girl.

And Jovie Kalei Pentz, getting to be your mom for the last ten years has been one of the greatest honors and joys of my entire life.

Happy 10th Birthday to the sweetest buttercup in all the land.

Love you to the moon, around all the stars, and back to home.

Mom