Raising children is an uncertain thing; success is reached only after a life of battle and worry

Two years in, and I'm already starting to learn some interesting lessons about parenting and expectations. Jason and I (Jason in particular) are fairly educated folk, and I think both of us have a tendency to measure success in intellectual achievement. I think both of us expected our kids to hit all of their milestones early and secretly hoped that they would show prodigy potential. Harvard graduates at 14! Composing symphonies by the age of 3! Well, thus far Lucie seems like a completely average 2-year-old; she might even be a little behind in the verbal department. I'd been feeling a bit anxious about her progress, but as I was watching her interact with Josiah the other day, I had a mini-epiphany.
I think for the first time I really understood the importance of the body of Christ being made up of a diverse group of people with a diverse group of gifts. I never really entertained the notion that our kids wouldn't have the same talents that we have (or at least value the most). I've mentioned before that I'm not naturally empathetic or nurturing, so I've never really thought of those as important attributes. Lucie, however, seems to possess those qualities in spades; she is so incredibly sweet with babies- and not just her brother. She can't see a car seat or stroller without craning her head and shrieking, "Baby!" She wants to give every baby she sees a "tiss" (kiss), and though I am constantly reminding her to be gentle, I don't think I really need to. She can easily spend an hour interacting with babies. She loves rubbing their hair, reading them books, showing them toys, holding their hands, and saying, "Hi!" in a sweet little voice. She gets really concerned when Josiah cries, and becomes totally invested in solving the problem. She runs out with blankets and diapers asking, "Cover up? Poopy diaper? Gas?" She also transfers her intense love of babies to her play. The bulk of her play time consists of wearing her baby dolls in a sling, wrapping and rewrapping them in blankets, changing thier diapers, putting them in Josiah's various pieces of baby equipment, and talking and singing to them. I feel a unexpected jolt of pride in my daughter when I see her exhbiting signs of compassion and concern for others. I even feel a little jealous that it seems to come so naturally to her, which is really strange since I used to write those gifts off as not nearly as important as those of wisdom and intellect. My daughter is a sweet, sensitive little soul, and she's teaching her callous, awkward mother how to love and nuture.
So I guess my kids won't neccessarily turn out they way I want them to, but I should thank the Lord for that! God has far more planned for them then I can ever imagine, and my expectations for them will just limit thier potential. I guess the best thing I can do is to keep the promises I made at thier baptisms- to raise them in the Lord's family, to bring them to church, to teach them prayers and creeds- and trust that God will take care of the rest.

Lucie rocking her baby Molly

The object of Lucie's affection