Willa is turning one on February 18. She’s been walking for two weeks now. With her large top, small bottom, and arms swinging in front of her potbelly, she strongly resembles a baboon. Her whole body sways precariously, but she rarely falls. When her arms aren’t swinging they’re rhythmically slapping that belly, exponentially increasing the similarities between our smallest and, well, a baboon.

I saw all the signs she was ready to take those first steps, but I missed her first official stumble forward. I was sitting right there and Brian was trying to get my attention, but the moment passed without me. That moment embodies my relationship with this calm, but determined daughter of mine. She’s an independent doer, making her way in a world where she is decidedly not the first child. And she’s thriving.

Ray is turning three on February 21, and she knows her ABCs up to the letter “M.” Her various milestones have been slow in coming. She was slow to cut teeth, slow to walk, and slow to talk. But her personality is deliberate. Vibrant and happy, but deliberate. Unlike our independent Willa, Ray loved having me nearby as she faced each new stage of babydom. Over time she has slowly grown out of her all-encompassing need for me to just be around.

Occasionally I feel guilt about my daughters’ independence from me. And sometimes grief. But mostly I’m happy to watch their exploration of the world when it happens with me, and when it happens without me.

Last year we added several new families to our team increasing our child population from 3 to 14. Each family is made up of different parenting styles and values, but all are guiding their children to a lifestyle focused on serving God and others. Choosing to live in Papua New Guinea was easy as a single. Choosing to live in Madang as a parent was significantly more difficult. I feared being alone as a mom. I feared raising socially awkward children. I feared educating them. I feared a full childhood would pass for them with no deep friendships. But the funny thing about fear is how completely pointless it is. Even if all these families didn’t fill our schedules and homes with children, God would have provided for mine. He has a perfect plan for them that involves us, as their parents, being and doing exactly what He’s asking us to do. Looking at him only, and not the waves crashing around with the what-ifs.

So while we’re now surrounded by the laughter of many different children spanning many different ages, I’ll enjoy watching my girls delight in their growing friendships. When those friends come and go, or when we come and go, I’ll be there to help my girls learn to say goodbye well. They won’t grow up knowing everything about their passport culture, but they will know beyond any shadow of a doubt that constancy is found in the One who provided friends in an unlikely situation.