Dear Olivia,

Happy Birthday! A perfect seven! I'm so proud...

Still, it's also kind of crazy to realize how quickly you're growing up. You're now more than half-way to being a teenager! A third of the way to officially being an adult! It sounds dramatic when I say it that way, doesn't it? It's the kind of thing Dads so often say. But what's craziest is that I can see it when I wake you up in the mornings. I slide open the door and look into your room, glowing softly pink. I pad across the shaggy, brown carpet and look down on you lying in bed. If I'm lucky, I catch a glimpse of you while you're still asleep. Your face is so restful, so full of grace and peace. I pull back the fuschia-colored tulle that's draped down from the ceiling, as if lifting a veil -- and I gaze at you for a moment, before bending down to kiss you awake...

Then, when you wake up, it's a magical transformation from sleeping beauty to the lively, little girl that I know and love. Maybe it takes a moment of stretching and rubbing your eyes, but very soon you smile. With your whole face, not just your mouth. You say, "Good morning, Daddy!" And we get to start another day of your childhood, when you sing silly songs about cheese, and you cry about the stains left from a make-up experiment on your little stuffed animal, and you dance with giddy excitement at the prospect of some special event at school. It's a great joy to share life with you, Olivia.

Like I always tell you: you're my little girl. And that makes you very, very special to me.

I'm noticing these days how exceptionally beautiful you are, and how beautiful you are becoming. Your 100,000-watt smile. Your soft, smooth hair, with flashes of copper, bronze, and gold. Your gray-blue eyes, framed by exclamation-point eyelashes. You really are a wonder to behold! It seems to me that you're noticing this, too, and starting to understand the power of your beauty. Like when we were in France on vacation this summer: you were always flaring your hands off to the sides, tilting your head, and curving at the hips to pose for a picture. Your outfits were  carefully considered. Your beauty was on full display. And truth be told: I'm proud to have a girl as beautiful as you.

At the same time, however, I want to remind you how the Bible says that your beauty doesn't just come from the things you wear on the outside, or the way you fix your hair, or the pretty jewelry you put around your neck and on your fingers. It's not about the tiara you wear on your head. "Instead, [your beauty] should be that of your inner self, the unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is of great worth in God’s sight" (1 Peter 3:3-4). Fortunately, Olivia, I know that you've got plenty of this kind of beauty, too. Your heart can be so magnificently-sensitive sometimes. I've seen it with your interactions with your little brother, with the way you hold a chain of daisies, with a heartfelt conversation about God. Your gentleness is breath-taking. So I desperately hope and pray that you will continue to develop this inner, unfading, beauty, even as you continue to grow and blossom with external beauty.

To be honest, Olivia, I'm actually not all that worried about you. And on this point, I think I differ from most other Dads -- who make worrying-about-their-daughters to be an Olympic sport. I feel that I don't have to worry about you so much because I know that you're a very intelligent girl; you've got a good head on your shoulders. I know that you're a considerate and generous person, who gets along well with others. And I know that the Spirit of God is living inside you

So with all that said, I just want to wish you a very Happy Birthday, again. In the coming year, I wish you much joy, beauty, friendship, and love (though, let's be frank, this is kind of like wishing a leopard a year with a lot of spots). I love you, Olivia. I love you a million times over.

Forever yours,

Daddy