Over a month ago it happened. My first baby turned eight.
Eight.
My mouth hardly is able to form that number without a lump in my throat. How am I even old enough to have an eight year old?
God certainly knew what He was doing when He gave us Elizabeth as our first born. Oh how my heart swells with love and pride when I think about her precious heart, her giving spirit and her desire to continually help.
She's the BEST biggest sister. Even if I could have dreamed up a first born, big sister for our army of children, I doubt my best and wildest imagination could have ever designed Elizabeth. Nearly always patient, eager to help a younger sibling, loving, gentle, kind and caring - she is exactly what our younger children need in an oldest sibling. Never too big to act silly enough to elicit a giggle or laugh from one of the younger ones or too proud to allow them to smother her with kisses. Often, she's way more patient than I am and she teaches me continually about grace and mercy.
How could I ever make it through my days without this girl? She showers me with hugs, help and love. And I am just so, so thankful for the young woman she's growing to be, the young lady God desires her to grow into and the friend I will one day have in her.
She's sassy. She has a style and a way all her own. Eight is a fun age but a hard age too. She's just grown enough to do almost everything on her own while she still needs regular guidance, direction and input. It's a fine line to walk, allowing her to stumble when natural consequences would be the best teacher and gently guiding her when she needs direction before an impending failure.
She's an amazing forgiver, which is good because her mother makes regular, epic mistakes and has to ask for forgiveness often. Not too long ago we were all outside playing with some neighborhood kids. She and Lucas got into a spat and she over reacted physically toward Lucas. In my own sinfulness and over reaction I reached out and swatted her firmly, right on the bottom in front of her friends. It broke her heart. She ran into the house, tearfully, to escape certain humiliation.
I followed her quickly, realizing that I did no better than she had just done with her brother. Asking her for forgiveness she threw her scrawny arms around my neck, climbed into my lap and told me I was a great Mom and we'd always forgive each other.
Oh baby girl, how I pray we always do.
She humbles me, showing me often what real forgiveness, genuine laughter and unconditionally love looks like.
Man, I just love this girl.
I know harder days are ahead. Days where I'll be last person she wants to talk to, her relationships with her friends will take precedence and I'll miss her sassy eight year old self crawling up in my lap and begging me to cuddle.
So for now, I breathe her in. I take in every part of who she is: artist, friend maker, compassionate stranger, understanding big sister, Abigail's personal assistant, my sweetest, biggest baby girl.
And I thank God for the gift of her every single day. What a treasure He's given us in our oldest child!
Happy (Belated) Birthday Elizabeth! I love you so very much!
Click these to see Elizabeth when she turned
seven,
six,
five and
four.
