Vale La Pena

I submitted my last final of the semester around lunch time, texted my mom that I was done, and then stood at the glass door looking out at the farm land behind our house. And a feeling of melancholy came over me and the Spanish question, "Vale la pena?" came to mind which means "Is it worth it?" or more literally, "Is it worth the pain?" Maybe there hasn't been physical pain, but there has been work, time, frustration, and sacrifice. I mean, seriously, what am I, a woman and a mother of 5 with no job or job experience going to do with a Bible degree that will make it "vale la pena?"

 And then I sensed the Lord telling me to focus on the land at which I was staring. The land that had stood there covered with snow and slush for most of the three months that we have lived here. Seemingly dormant. To all appearances barren. Presently useless. And the wind that rips across that flat dirt?! I have never known anything like it. It's torn shingles off of our roof, and one time I awoke in the middle of the night for sure we were in an earthquake because our house was literally shaking from the power of it.

My mind then turned to the first sixteen weeks of my pregnancy. I was so nauseous. Any little thing could have me fighting the reflex to gag. The smell of popcorn, the sound of anyone breathing, the taste of toothpaste, kissing Blake (ironically), and the feeling of heat blowing on me would all send me over the edge. I felt exhausted every minute, and I cried a lot, and when I wasn't crying I felt mad. I am going to be real honest and say that there were many times, the thought, "Didn't I have enough to deal with already?" would overtake my thoughts. It just did not feel "vale la pena".

When Camden and Hope were babies, and Blake was an audio director in the DFW area, I would ask myself often, "Why are we here, when our hearts long to be in ministry?" Is what we are doing worth anything? When we were youth and worship pastors a few years later, as much as I loved it, my heart started crying out to the Lord, "I want to go to the nations! That's the life that will be worth it." Then when we were on the mission field, while it was so rewarding, it also came with all kinds of feelings that made me wonder if I was enough. I would be plagued with thoughts like: Am I worth it? Do the results that come from Blake and I being here, outweigh the sacrifices others are making, like our financial supporters and our children most of all? Is it "vale la pena"?

So many times we all wonder if it's worth it, don't we? We want there to be a point. We want to be successful. We want there to be great purpose, along with a little recognition to go with it. We want the reward to match or exceed the work.

You know that land behind our house? I saw it last year when we drove through this area praying for a house. Soon it won't just be dirt. Soon there will be planted seeds, sprouting plants, tall, strong corn stalks, and finally a harvest. In a few short months the land will be luscious, green, and plentiful. It will have been worth the wait.

As for my pregnancy, now at 20 weeks, my nausea is almost gone, and the exhaustion has improved. And this morning I awoke to tiny little baby feet thumping against my hip bone, and my heart rejoiced. I breathed a prayer of gratitude to the One who created life, and to the baby inside I whispered: "vale la pena little one". You are worth the pain.

As I continued to stand there at my back door, I thought back to every season of our almost twenty years of marriage, and I felt  the joy crowding out the melancholy. I remembered the rewards. I remembered the priceless lessons that I learned along the way. My mind sifted through so many people that I have loved and who have loved us in return. I thought back to the strength each year had brought to our marriage, and best of all the intimacy that I found in Jesus when life was hard. My soul declared my gratitude: My dear, Savior, you are more to me than I deserve. You are (like you were to Abraham), "my shield and my exceedingly great reward." (Gen. 15:1)

I turned from the glass door, gathered up my books and took them down to the bookcase in our basement. As I stuffed them in with the others that I have collected over the the past three years, I felt nothing but peace. What a silly question to ask if it was worth it. God always makes every season worth it.

He has been known...

I have a friend in Brownsville, Texas with crazy creative talent. Take a look at her Facebook page when you get a chance, and order something!

  Lil' Hippo Creations

Last week she posted a picture of this little sign, and when I read it, my heart skipped a beat. 

I wrote it down in my journal because it felt like something I needed to document. 

Blake and I are praying for something big right now. Well, we are praying for a handful of big somethings, but there is one big something that we are focused on the most. We think about it. We talk about it. We dream about it. We even LITERALLY dream about it. And we pray about it. 

But if I am honest, my prayers haven't been real fervent. I've been a little scared to put too much into my prayer because I don't want to be disappointed.  

Do you know what I mean? Are you scared of being disappointed about something not coming to pass that you are hoping for right now?

Because you know and I know....mountains sometimes DON'T (seem to) move. In fact, often they are pretty stubbornly steadfast. 

I was driving in the snow the other day. Being new to the North and all, I feel a thrill typing that. Actual snow flakes hitting my windshield as I drove my dirty mini van underneath the interstate that either takes you to Chicago or Detroit. I wonder how long I will live here before I don't look at that interstate sign and ask myself how on earth I live between Chicago and Detroit?! I don't even know how to SAY Detroit. Is it DEEtroit or deeTROIT? I have no idea. 

But anyway... as I was driving in the snow between Chicago and Detroit, I was thinking about "the something". The big ole something. And I felt God whisper, 

I have been known to move mountains. 

I got chill bumps. And not because of the snow. My heater was blasting and I was wearing four layers of clothes. I got chill bumps because when God whispers something to my soul, it affects me on every level. 

But I'm going to share with you my vulnerable second response. 

I whispered back to God with a little shame.

 "But, God, sometimes you don't." 

It's true right? Sometimes He doesn't step in like we thought He would. Sometimes it feels like we won't ever have the stories that others have.

The fact is, God isn't a genie. There isn't a recipe or a magic phrase, or a level of coolness or spiritual maturity that guarantees He will move mountains when and how we want.
And sometimes we need to remember that. 

But sometimes we need to be reminded that despite that fact, even still, however, on the other hand, nonwithstanding... 
He has been known to move mountains. 

In Guatemala, we were surrounded by mountains and volcanoes. In the area where we lived there were two huge volcanoes. The biggest, "Agua" was dormant, and the second "Fuego" was active and smoked like a chimney most days. We would take road trips to the beach or the lake or a neighboring village, and the volcanoes were our constant landscapes reminding us of the greatness and beauty of our Creator. One thing that I could never comprehend is how a volcano, let's say Agua, could start out on one side of the road, and after 15 or 30 minutes of driving, it would be on the opposite side of the road. "How does that HAPPEN?!"" I would ask over and over, trip after trip. I was enthralled for six straight years over this. "How does a volcanco move to the OTHER SIDE OF THE ROAD!!!!" Blake would say in exasperation over and over as he rolled his eyes, "Christina, WE moved!! AGUA DID NOT MOVE!!" 

photo credit: Noah Nehls

And that's the thought that came to me in response to my quiet, 

"But God, sometimes you don't move the mountain." 

Oh but He DOES! In response to faith, He always moves the mountain. He said it in Matthew 11. 

"And Jesus answered them, “Have faith in God. Truly, I say to you, whoever says to this mountain, ‘Be taken up and thrown into the sea,’ and does not doubt in his heart, but believes that what he says will come to pass, it will be done for him. Therefore I tell you, whatever you ask in prayer, believe that you have received it, and it will be yours".

Yet, Agua taught me that sometimes mountains "move" from a gradual change in our perspective as WE keep MOVING forward.

This part: "will come to pass" never hit me until this season. I always had a mental picture of shouting at a mountain and watching it immediately throw itself into the sea while I stood there. But this verse definitely portrays a process doesn't it? It portrays a waiting, an anticipation, an extended confidence. It definitely gives room for a growing and a moving forward and a change of perspective. 

As I thought of all of these things, I felt a strong sense of conviction to have great faith in this season because
He has been known to move mountains.

Even if the mountain from last month or last year or ten years ago still stands stubbornly on the same side of the road 
He has been known to move mountains.

Even if every day I have to surrender my doubt, my fear of shame and failure, and my pride. 
He has been known to move mountains. 

Even if it had been years since I experienced the last miracle, I will remind myself that
He has been known to move mountains.

Even if I watch God move mountains for a dozen others while I wait for Him to move mine, I will hold steadfast that
He has been known to move mountains. 

My word for this year that the the Lord put into my heart is the word: Build. The ironic thing about it is that I am ignorant about building. I have never nailed two boards together in my life that I can remember. In comparison, the dreams and challenges God has placed in my heart that surround this word: build, are also beyond my capabilities and experience. Because of this, I know without a doubt that I have a whole lot of big, stubborn, intimidating mountains in my path in the year ahead. I'm a little nervous, but also excited. Because you know what?

He has been known to move mountains. 

My One Word

Six year ago today, we ended a season of church ministry, and began a season of cross cultural "missions" in Guatemala. Here we are at the beginning of the journey... Blake and I so excited...and so naive. ha!

And here we are at the end of the six years, entering back into church ministry. I want to blog about my transition, and in this blog I describe some of my Guatemala journey. This is my personal journey. It isn't Blake's or my kids' or our family's. It's just mine, and just a part. I wish Blake blogged. His journey in Guatemala was completely different than mine, and I'd love for people to read about it. Maybe he will do that one day. But for now,  I'm going to share a piece of my story. 

Before we left Guatemala, Blake and I emailed several pastors and their wives and asked if they would be willing to meet with us during our time in Texas. During these meetings, we boldly asked them to please give us all the wisdom they could think to give us in the amount of time it took for us to drink our coffee together or eat our meal. And we soaked up every word like a couple of thirsty desert wanderers. 

One of the guys who is a mission pastor and former missionary, asked Blake and I and our big kids for one word to describe our time in Guatemala. I could come up with lots of words: 

Beautiful - the mountains, volcanoes, the weather, the people, and a thousand memories that I will cherish forever. 

Proud - of my husband and the leader he was, our staff and their dedication and compassion, the people in the communities that showed strength and resilience beyond description.

Grateful - for all the friends and family that supported us in so many ways, for our Guatemalan friends who graciously embraced us into their lives and homes and hearts, for friendships that will continue despite the miles between us. 

But the word I came up with and gave to him was the word Humbled. 

I pondered it later, asking myself why that was the word I gave. As I searched my heart, I realized that I used that word because of how often I felt humbled sometimes even to the point of humiliation. I had many moments that I felt not good enough. I often fell short of my own expectation and the expectations I felt others had of me. I often felt ashamed that I couldn't do more and be more. In looking back over the past six years, I just didn't feel like I could give myself a good grade.

I knew that these thoughts and feelings were areas that I needed a touch from the Lord. 

As I have prayed about it over the past few weeks, I have felt the Lord bring to mind more than once, something that was shared with Blake and I several weeks ago.

We asked one of the pastors that we met with how he deals with feelings of insecurity and offense when people leave the church, or don't like the sermon, or get mad about a decision that is made. 

"How do you handle that?" 

"How do you prevent the emotions of that from taking over everything else going on in your life and ministry?" 

"How do you move forward and not stay offended or insecure?"

His response was short, but powerful. 

"I ask God for a word. One word from the Lord about the situation is all that it takes to give me peace to move forward. Just one word." 

There it is again..... ONE WORD.... 

Maybe that's what I needed in this instance. Maybe I needed to ask God for ONE WORD that would describe my time in Guatemala. 

So I started doing that, asking God and asking and asking again. 

Finally, I started sensing Him move in my heart in this area.

I felt Him showing me all the hard things that I did during our time in Guatemala.

We arrived in Guatemala with two children. During our time in Guatemala they went through their preteen years and became teenagers. They weren't always happy in Guatemala. That was hard. 

I got pregnant and had another baby when my first two were 10 and 12. That was wonderful, but hard.

I adopted a baby. That, too, was wonderful but hard. 

Having two babies 12 months apart, breastfeeding them both for a time, getting up with them both in the night, keeping them both happy and healthy, all while also having a teenager and a pre-teen... That was hard. 

Trying to master a new language in 45 minute spurts here and there when I got to take a break from the four kids and be involved with ministry? Fumbling my words with our Guatemalan staff and realizing again and again how far behind my Spanish was from the full time American staff? That was hard.

Being the wife of a husband directing a ministry and hearing about all of the highs and not letting myself get jealous, and hearing about all the lows and not holding on to bitterness? That was hard. 

Realizing that I couldn't do it all, and having to make choices about how I should prioritize my time?That was hard.

And there were other things, of course. You know that, and you get the point.... And I know I don't have the edge on hard. Many of you are walking through hard things that make my hard things seem as simple as Kindergarten. I recognize that. 

But I definitely began to see a pattern as I reviewed my time in Guatemala:

God led me to do a lot of hard things.

I cherish my time in Guatemala. We have so many wonderful, hilarious, and unforgettable stories and moments, but it was almost always some level of hard.

Some may say much of the hard was from choices Blake and I made on our own, things that we "brought upon ourselves."

I can understand that, but I also know the hand of God was behind these "choices". 

And I began to feel Him truly confirm that within me.

My steps were ordained by Him.  

He CHOSE me. 

To move to Guatemala in 2013 and stay until 2018 - I was CHOSEN

To be my big kids' mama - I was CHOSEN

To conceive and give birth to Logan - I was CHOSEN

To adopt Grayson - I was CHOSEN

To be Blake's wife - I was CHOSEN

To love the staff (and others) the best I could, in the time I had, with the Spanish I had - I was CHOSEN

What is my one word to describe my time in Guatemala? CHOSEN

I didn't do anything to earn any of it. But every step was a gift. 

And every time I was able to do anything, offer anything, or even receive anything even in my weaknesses and fumbling... it was an undeserved blessing.  

Maybe you, too, are in a season where you aren't the best, aren't the most qualified, and don't have it all together, please know that you are still CHOSEN.

I had another pastor tell me recently that God was sending me to Kalamazoo, Michigan because they needed all of me, even my weaknesses. 

Your kids need you. Your spouse needs you. Your friends, co-workers, and neighbors need you. The people you are serving and loving or ministering to, (even if it's just in 45 minute spurts here and there in very mediocre Spanish), they need you.

Rest tonight in the fact that you are CHOSEN, and God is going to use all of you, even your weaknesses.

Fourteen is for Growing

I am going to start off this birthday blog talking about myself....

When I was thirteen I went to a small Christian school that I had gone to since Kindergarten. I had a best friend, a boyfriend, and a whole lot of confidence. Our class was the oldest at the school, and the plan was to continue to add a grade so that our class could eventually graduate together. But towards the end of the year, the school decided not to offer an eighth grade. I felt like a little bird being kicked out of my warm, comfortable nest. My boyfriend broke up with me, my best friend started homeschooling with another girl that had been in our class, and my new life was planned out for me. My mom would be homeschooling me and my sister. Looking back it felt a lot like leaving a fun party, and being put in time out in a really quiet, non-exciting corner.

But you know what? I am so, so thankful.

The year I was fourteen, I volunteered two days a week at a local hospital. I learned how to quietly serve others.

The year I was fourteen, I decided that I really needed to make my youth group my social group. I became good friends with several kids that I still consider friends today. I even ended up marrying one of them.

The year I was fourteen, I started babysitting three or four, or even five times a week and working in the children's ministry at our church. I learned responsibility, started saving money, and discovered how much I really loved kids.

The year I was fourteen, I realized that I wasn't as important as I thought, but I also realized that I was more valuable than I had ever known, and I learned the difference between the two. Thinking you're important causes you to be selfish and prideful, understanding your value causes you to serve and love others.

When I look back at your 13th year, Hope, I can't help but compare it to mine.
You were at a small Christian school.
You were comfortable.
You had friends.
You had a lot of fun.

And now... it has ended. And not only are we taking you away from your school, but we are taking you away from the country that you have known as home since you were eight years old. And although we are moving back to the States, we are moving 12 hours from the closest Texas border. (Do you want to build a snowman?) I know a bit how you feel, but I also know that it is even harder that what I experienced. I recognize how hard this is, and I am hugely grateful and hugely proud of how brave you are being in this season. You might not see the incredible strength you have, but I see it.



 

In this next year of life, I am praying that God does for you what He did for me at your age.

I am praying that you find:
- A place to serve.
- A place to build forever friendships.
- A place to discover your passions and giftings.
- A place to understand your intrinsic value.

Have big faith in God, "Baby Hope". The toughest seasons often bring the most treasured gifts.
Stay strong, stay brave, and don't lose ALL your sass. ;)

Happy 14!!! It's going to be beautiful!

Humility Exceeding Gratitude

 
    In light of recent events, I found it interesting and ironic that in the FIRST CHAPTER of my sophomore level Public Speech class there was a section on ethnocentrism. (Ethnocentrism - the belief in the inherent superiority of one's own ethnic group or culture) The text book exhorted its readers to check themselves for attitudes of enthocentlrism, and to make it of extreme importance not to let ethnocentrism come out in their public speeches.

    We talk to every student that comes on a trip with our ministry about this very thing. We can be grateful for our country, even proud of it, without believing it to be superior to other countries. In our debrief time with students we do an exercise with them where they have to list and discuss some traits and values about their country and culture from which Guatemala could learn, and then they have to list and discuss traits and values about Guatemala and its culture from which their home country could learn. After just two weeks spent serving Guatemalans, ministering beside our Guatemalan staff, and living with Guatemala families in host homes, pointing out strengths and positives about this beautiful country and its people is NEVER a problem. Our students leave with an awareness that there are basic values seen here in Guatemala that they want to take back to their home, and weave into the rest of their lives. They come to serve, but they realize they receive even more than they give just about 100% of the time.
 
      In high school, I got a job where I worked closely with African American children, day care workers, community leaders, and pastors. Before then, I had known one African American family and that's it. But for three years in high school, by the grace of God, I got to spend hours at a time talking on a deep level with African Americans. I grew to see, that as a culture group, they were more resilient, more intentional, and more brave than anyone I'd ever known in my own culture group. I was inspired over and over and over. I was motivated to embrace some of their traits into my life as best as I could. I have deep respect for African American people.

  In middle school, I took three trips to Mexico. I also got to be around many Latinos through the same job I mentioned above. I fell in love with their inner strength, their loyalty to family, and the way they live fully in the moment. I wanted to speak their language, understand their culture, and live my life in a way that looked similar to their's. I was secretly proud that I was often mistaken as a Mexican. :)

     Since we came to Christian Academy of Guatemala, Camden, Hope, and I have had the opportunity to get to know many Koreans. My boss is Korean, 1/3 of my class is Korean, and both of my big kids have several Korean friends. I am giddy at the opportunity we have to get to know a new culture group. I have been deeply impressed by their politeness, their kind smiles, and their strong sense of community. Recently our school had their yearly mandatory meeting. Guatemalan, North, American, and Korean moms and dads gathered in the chapel, mostly finding seats with their own culture group. I looked across the aisle to see two rows of Korean women and wondered to myself where all of the dads were. I asked later, and was told that it was like that every year. Most of the Korean dads sign their voting proxies over to their wives, and the wives show up together. I think about myself and how here in Guatemala I am so nervous about many things. Blake has to pay the bills, make phone calls in Spanish, and drive me to new places (at least) the first time. And I probably would have pouted for 12 hours if Blake had signed his proxy over to me and not come with me to the meeting. As I think about those two rows of lovely Korean women sitting there together "getting business done", I am totally and completely inspired. I'm inspired to do things on my own more often, to be stronger and more independent, and to, at least every once in awhile, let Blake sign over his proxy.
 
     I often thank God that I am from the USA. I feel humbled and comforted that at any time I can buy a ticket, get on a place, and be welcomed back to my home land. But you know what I'm not? I'm not proud. Because I did absolutely nothing to deserve being born in the USA. It just happened that way. I still have prejudices. I still see racism in my heart that sickens me. I still have so far to go to truly rid myself of ethnocentrism. But I won't stop working on it. I will still strive for humility that  exceeds my gratitude. For me humility means being aware that there are things I can learn, things our culture group can learn, and things our country can learn from every other culture group and every other county on this continent. Let's take the advice of my sophomore level speech book and check ourselves for ethnocentrism and for the love of Trump, keep it out of our public speeches.

Camden Bailey is 15!!!

Fifteen sounds waaayyyyy older than fourteen, right?!! He also started high school last week which sounds waaayyyy older than middle school. I am excited for what the next four years hold. I am excited that he's in a school that he loves. I am excited that he's surrounded by a group of really great kids at school and in our neighborhood. I am excited that his friends are from the U.S., from Canada, from Korea, from Sudan, and from Guatemala. I am excited that he started playing competitive sports again this week. I am excited that he has coaches and teachers and pastors that know him by name and care for him academically, socially, emotionally, and spiritually. I know life won't always be easy, but I am so grateful for the love and strength that is all around him.

A few days ago, on Hope's thirteenth birthday we asked Camden if he had any advice for her as she began her teenage years. Without hesitation he said, "Like everyone." Her response: "But people irritate me." He shrugged and kept eating his pizza...his medium size pizza that he ate almost entirely on his own, I might add. It wasn't until later that I decided that "like everyone" sounded like the 15 year old translation for the second greatest commandment. The next Sunday at church our associate pastor preached on how love is never wasted on anyone. On the way home Camden said, "Nate just gave the church the same advice I gave Hope." And I see that in his life. He doesn't speak badly about people and he is kind and respectful to people of all ages. I'm thankful that this isn't something that is just natural to him, but proven by the fact that it was his advice to his sister, it's an intentional decision on his part.

So, I think he's in a pretty good place, but I also think he's totally still a normal 15 year old male.... I have to choose my battles, and try not to make mountains out of mole hills.... But it's hard sometimes... Like last Sunday when we were walking down the street, and he tripped or ran into something...who knows, and out of his mouth came some strange noise... "What was that?" I asked. "I cussed in German," he replied.

And I asked myself, "Do I lecture about how cussing in German is no better than cussing in English? Or do I tell him I'm impressed he's working on a third language?"

It's a quandary, I tell ya....

He is now at the age that Blake and I were when we started a relationship. Crazy!! I know chances are high that he hasn't met his forever girl yet, but I'm nice to all the girls around here close to his age just in case. 😃  I feel like I have prepared for these last four years. Since he was little bitty, I've been pretty future focused with him. I was always on guard not to let him stay "my baby" in my mind. I've been intentional to remind myself that I WILL have to let him go. I never wanted people to wonder if I was more in love with my son than I was with my husband, because we all know how creepy that is... So this is it... the last stretch...four more years. At the beach, recently, I was staring out at the waves, asking God to speak to my heart. It's kind of thing with us when I'm at the beach. I sit and listen and He speaks. So far, we're batting a hundred. But this time I wasn't hearing anything. I sat and sat and listened and listened. Then I finally spoke to Him. I said, "I have never seen the ocean in Guatemala this calm." And then I felt three words form in my mind and heart, Consistency. Routine. Foundation. These words made up our lives his first six years. My life revolved around my little ones, and making sure life was consistent for them, and that I gave them a foundation of security. When I felt those words form in my heart, I knew he had been speaking to me through the unusual calmness of the ocean. Go back to those values. These last four years be consistent, have a routine focused around Camden (and his siblings), give him a foundation of security. Those baby years are important, but it's these last four years he will remember. So, Camden, on your fifteenth birthday I want you to know that even though our life is much busier than when you were little, you and your brothers and sister are still my most important job. You matter deeply to me. I want more than anything for us to finish well. I want you to remember your home being one of laughter, deep conversations, and where growth was encouraged and mistakes were forgiven. I want to do what I can to make these next four years your best years yet.       

                   

Happy Birthday, Camden. I am so thankful to be your mom! 

Destiny Hope is 13!

Our baby girl is a teenager!! I think when you're the baby of the family for 10 years, you have the right to keep the title for the rest of your life, even if you do have to share it with your youngest brother. But our fiery Hope is definitely no longer a baby, or even a little girl. As I see her entering this new season of life, I feel like I am re-living my own middle school years again. How vividly I remember all of the emotions! These aren't easy years, baby girl, so I want to share some thoughts with you as you enter your teenage years... 

You are already figuring out that everyone isn't always going to like you. And pretty much no one will like you 100% of the time. Sometimes you will feel left out, you will feel ignored, or you will feel inferior. And it will hurt deep. But I pray that you remember that God made you to love people well. So when you feel like you are NOT being loved well, go find someone that appears to feel like you do and focus on helping them to feel better. 

You will also find out that you can be mean. You will discover that you can say harsh words, give haughty expressions, and cause others to feel embarrassed or belittled. You will see that sometimes prideful behavior can elevate you. But I pray hard that the Holy Spirit won't let you get away with it. I pray His conviction will hunt you down like the world's best hound dog.

You will want a boyfriend, and probably get one eventually. I don't know what you will learn from this boy exactly, because I don't know what kind of boy you will choose. But here's my advice to you: make sure he knows your daddy. Not because Daddy has a gun over the fireplace or a metal bat in the garage (because he doesn't), but because Daddy has a pastoral heart and I've seen more than a few boys (and men) learn to love Jesus in a bigger way just by being around him.

You will have days that you don't like me or your Dad. Sometimes it will be because Daddy and I are being jerks, and sometimes it will be because we are being good parents. But I want you to know that either way you have an opportunity every time you are mad at us. You have the opportunity to extend grace. I want to teach you more about grace. Grace is taking a step towards restoration. I see you as a person capable of much grace because you are a forgiver. You get mad fast with your red-headed temper, but you forgive just as quickly. People that forgive quickly are people of grace. You didn't get that from me, so I admire it so much in you. And that's why I want to encourage you to continue growing in that by doing Daddy and I the honor of extending us grace even when we don't deserve it.

You have the opportunity to teach your brothers about girls. You have the responsibility of helping to prepare them for their future wives and daughters. Pray about what that means for you. I think it's something powerful. And know that because that is part of your calling right now, that the enemy is going to try to steal it from you. He is going to try to put up walls between you and your brothers. He's going to want you to be irritated by them, and them by you. Fight hard against that. Your brothers are a gift, and you are a gift to them.

You are like your dad, your Grammy, and a little bit like your Aunt Miranda. I tell everyone you're my opposite, but I know that's not true in every way. You and Camden are both dreamers like me. Maybe it's because I've taught you to be that way, or maybe not. But I want you to keep sharing your dreams with me. You know how you want to be a vet? And you want to work with small AND large animals, but you found out that you can't do that many places? Then you found out you could do it in Alaska. So now you want to move to Alaska. You got that from me, baby girl. You'll move to Alaska before you give up your dream. Stay that way. Forever. And I will cheer you all the way to Alaska. I give you my word.

Everything in life is going to seem like such a BIG DEAL. It's because you're a girl, you're 13, and you just have that kind of personality. You are sassy, stubborn, and dramatic. But please know that life is made up of so very many seasons. They come and they go. I want you to learn how to live big picture. I want you to learn how to live true to your convictions and your calling. I want you to learn how to ask God who you are and ask Him what He thinks about you. I don't want you to change for anyone but Jesus. I want you to be considerate about other people's feelings but not controlled by them. I want you to be you and do your thing and sing your song and walk your walk and laugh your laugh and cry your tears. I want you to do it all and not feel like you have to measure up to anyone's definition of what a girl or woman should be. No boxes for you, baby girl. Live Free.

Happy Birthday to my favorite daughter! I love you mucho!