The following is a letter from a father to his daughter, taken from Dr. James Dobson's book, When God Doesn't Make Sense:

My Dear Bristol,

Before you were born, I prayed for you. In my heart I knew you would be a little angel, and so you were. When you were born on my birthday, April 7, it was evident that you were a special gift from the Lord. But how profound a gift you turned out to be! More than the gurgles and rosy cheeks, more than the firstborn of my flesh—a joy unspeakable. You showed me God's love more than anything else in all creation. Bristol, you taught me how to love. I certainly loved you when you were cuddly and cute, when you jabbered your first words.

I loved you when the searing pain of realization took hold that something was wrong—that maybe you weren't developing as quickly as your peers, and even when we understood it was more serious than that. I loved you when we went from hospital to clinic to doctor, looking for a medical diagnosis that would bring us some hope. And of course, we always prayed for you. We prayed and prayed.

I loved you when you moaned and cried; your mom and I and your sisters would drive for hours late at night to help you fall asleep. I loved you when you were confused—when, with tears in your eyes, you would bite your fingers or your lip by accident. I loved you when your eyes crossed, and then when you went blind. I most certainly loved you when you could no longer speak, but how profoundly I missed your voice!

I loved you when scoliosis began to wrench your body like a pretzel, and when we put a tube in your stomach so you could eat. We fed you one spoonful at a time—even up to two hours per meal. I managed to love you when your contorted limbs made changing ten years of diapers difficult. Bristol, I even loved you when you could not say the one thing in life that I longed to hear back: "Daddy, I love you."

Bristol, I loved you when I was close to God and when he seemed far away—when I was full of faith and also when I was angry at him. And the reason I loved you, my Bristol, in spite of these difficulties, is that God put this love in my heart. This is the wondrous nature of God's love: He loves us when we are blind, or deaf, or twisted in body or in spirit. God loves us even when we can't tell him that we love him back.

My dear Bristol, now you are free. I look forward to that day when, according to God's promises, we will be joined together—completely whole and full of joy. I'm so happy that you have your crown first! We will follow you some day in his time. Before you were born, I prayed for you. In my heart, I knew you would be a little angel. And so you were.

Love, Daddy