Tonight I was digging through the filing cabinet trying to find Brynn's immunization record for her camp application and I found a little book I'd written for my girls way back in October, 2001. It's my own version of the children's story "I Love You The Purplest." My life looked a lot different back in 2001. I was a woman who loved her children, but didn't really love God, my husband, or myself to the extent that I do now. I had not fully turned my life over to Christ. Reading this story ten years later brings back an ache in my heart for what could have been. It's not good to live life focusing on regrets. But I do see value in revisiting history (especially the sweet parts) and celebrating how far God has taken me.
Here's an unedited snippet of my life from a decade ago:
I Love You The Pinkest, by Michelle Akins
Mommy and her two beautiful daughters went out one fall evening for a walk. They loved to go up and down the sidewalks of their neighborhood. The evening air was cool and breezy. Mommy and her girls had sweatshirts on to keep them snuggly during their walk.
Brynn the eldest daughter was four and a half years old. She loved to walk out in front of the stroller, sometimes running or skipping. She liked to pop in and out of the stroller whenever she needed to rest, especially if she got a cramp in her side after a long run.
Tonight Brynn skipped and sang as Mommy pushed baby Jolee down the sidewalk. Jolee was eight months old and thought her big sister was the best entertainment in the world. Mommy smiled as Jolee giggled and screeched watching Brynn skip.
Soon Brynn was ready for a ride in the big double stroller. Her seat was up front. Jolee sad in back gazing at trees and neighborhood children playing in the pleasant evening. Brynn stopped singing and asked, "Mommy, who do you love the best?"
Mommy thought for a second and then said, "Brynn, I love you the reddest. I love you the color of a bright red balloon flying high in the sky, the fiery red of the setting sun, the sweetness of a Valentine heart full of chocolates, and the top of a rainbow filled with promise."
"Well, what about Jolee?" Brynn asked.
"I love her the whitest," said Mommy. "The white of mini-marshmallows melting in your mouth, angel wings, and fluffy clouds in a blue blue sky. I love Jolee with the softness of a new white towel fresh from the dryer."
"When I think of my girls," Mommy said, " I love you together, the pinkest. I love you very much. And I love being your Mommy." Then they all turned the corner and headed for home. As they strolled up the street, the sun was setting in a blaze of red over the hills. The wind was blowing harder now and Brynn asked for hot cocoa when they got back. "Ok," said Mommy, "would you like me to put marshmallows on top?"
"No," said Brynn, "but can I just eat a few while we read our Kirstin book?"
"Yes my girl," said Mommy.
Jolee squealed with delight as they entered the garage. The walk was over and bedtime had begun.
The End.
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