The most precious times of our lives can be spent simply around a table, reminiscing the past. My family and I did this last night. We all went out for pizza and dragged my daughter's wonderful boyfriend along with us. I look at her now, around the same age I had started dating my husband, and I praise God that the young man she is dating is a strong man of God. I look at them with eyes of wonder and curiosity. What must it be like to start "in God"?
Such memories we recalled of our years living abroad, when both our girls were young. Tales of mishaps, memories of creeks, bees, and rollerblading. Our time there holds a mix of pain and joy, of struggles that pushed me to edge of my faith and forced me into the arms of God's faithfulness. During this time, the seeds of my girls' faith journeys were planted and have now sprouted and continue to grow. Already I see God working in their lives and using their fledgling faith to further his kingdom.
As I type these words, I realize it's not so much how we start, but how we finish.
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