Today is my 25th birthday. Today I am one fourth of a century old. And so in celebration, I am officially launching this new blog. I’m not new to blogging. I’ve had a blog for a few years which I would write on every now and then, rarely going public with my posts. But, I feel like it’s time for me to begin sharing, in hopes of encouraging.
Will you come with me through the seasons?
As I was looking through some old pictures I stumbled upon this picture:
Apparently though I’ve been writing for a lot longer than I remember! Ha.
Last night boof (the hubs) and I went to my parents for my birthday eve. As we sat around eating cake, conversation turned to memories of growing up and the way in which my parents raised my brother and I. And there we all sat, my mom and dad, my brother and his fiancé, boof and I. It was surreal, a lot to soak in. It’s my first birthday being married, it’s a miracle that my brother is getting married, and my parents are edging toward retirement. The birthday parties have gone from Pretty Little Princess to sitting around talking about marriage, house remodeling, and cooking. Oh how the seasons have changed, oh how they have changed us.
As I left, my mom tried to remember the details of my birth story: time, weight, length. These things kind of get a little foggy after twenty five years.
When we got back to our apartment, I remembered something I had tucked away a few years ago, the birth announcement my mom had written. As I read through it, I realized how quickly things changed for my parents the day I was born. They walked into the hospital with one child, and left with two. It reminded me of how quickly things change in our lives, and how most of the time we do not know the dramatic effect they will have on us. I was overcome with so much gratitude for my parents as my eyes were open to how much the season of parenting has changed them, how much it has impacted them, how much they have sacrificed (and continue to). I guess this realization hits home a little more now, being in a position where I could be a mom. Oh so much will change in my life if (God willing) that happens! I look forward to that season, but for now, I look back on the moment my parents were ushered into a new season, of having a baby girl. I only hope to be half of the parents they are to me.
“The Psalmist reminds us that each human being is ‘fearfully and wonderfully made.’ As our 8 pound 13 ounce, 21-inch long daughter came into the world, we praised God for His miraculous handiwork. It was 4:34 a.m. on Friday, March 2 that Amy Elizabeth was born.
We chose Amy Elizabeth for several reasons. Amy Carmichael, missionary to India, was born in Millisle, about 20 miles from [Amy’s father’s] home village in Northern Ireland. Her life and writings have been a great inspiration and challenge to [Amy’s father]. Amy means “greatly loved” and that is exactly how we feel about our Amy. Elizabeth means “God’s promise.” How often we have looked to His promises and faithfulness. Also, [Amy’s grandma] is Elizabeth, and [Amy’s mom’s] best friend is Rachel Elizabeth.
Who does she look like? Well we all agree that she is a Quinn baby, a real Irish Lassie. She looks like her Granda Quinn, her uncle Denis Quinn, and her Daddy. She has lots of hair which was very dark at first, but just could turn out to be auburn!
Big Brother is taking it all in stride. He is very proud of Amy and loves to hug and kiss her! “I’ll never get tired of holding my baby sister,” he says. He is into sticker books, mazes, and dot-to-dot activities right now. He has also just recovered from the chicken pox!
Thank you for praying for us. [Mom] is feeling good and Amy is a healthy baby. We are now trusting God to clearly lead us in the next segment of our lives as we seek His will regarding a place of ministry. Pray with us for His unmistakable direction.”
As I read this, my eyes get a little blurry and my heart full. My mother’s last line in my birth announcement is the same prayer I asked my parents to pray for me last night. Sometimes the most encouraging thing in the present is to look back and remember the past, and here I find they overlap. And I am assured; the same God who was faithful then, will be faithful again.