22 Things

Tomorrow will be my oldest daughter’s 22nd birthday. She was born on a Saturday and so my first Mother’s Day I spent in the hospital with this tiny little girl—all along I had wanted a boy. This little girl changed my mind. I both love and hate that she was my first. I love that she was the first—she made me want more children. I hate that she was the first—because I was way too hard on her; I expected too much. Moms tend to do that with their first-borns. Her name means consecrated grace; she is well named. I see God extend his mercy and grace through this young woman often.

Happy birthday, dear Anna.

Here are just a few things I love about her:

The way she loves, delights in and applies the Word
The light in her face—beyond beautiful
Her strong sense of responsibility
Her hand movements during conversation
Her ability to talk to a child without demeaning them
Her incredible self-discipline
Her conversations with God
Her razor-sharp discernment
Her servant’s heart
Her smile
Her steel rods—they have helped to make her strong
Her wink and raised eyebrow—enjoy the first, beware of the second
Her work ethic
Her slow walk
Her gift to handicraft words until they become art
Her flaxen hair
Her overcoming, more-than-conqueror spirit
Her insight
Her appreciation for the outdoors
Her love for her sisters
Her longing for her will to be bent and aligned with God’s
Her desire to help the poor, the needy, the outcast, the invisible