Happy Birthday to Me

In which I reflect on 39 years of crashing and burning…and rising again.

Papa & Me (I think)

The 80s - A time of cartoons, clip on mustaches, and lots of love.

Dear Ashley, 3 —

You’re three old and life is really easy, but it’s about to get a little wild. Dad just got a job with the government, and it’s going to take you a lot of places. You’re gonna leave South Carolina and Grandma and Papa— and you’re not going to forget how much you don’t like living away from them. When you finally settle down in Danville, Illinois, you’re going to pack your flowery suitcase that’s as big as you are and make a runaway attempt… then realize you don’t know how to get back to Papa’s house or how to spell…so running away might not be a good idea.

You’re living and going a few other places in between, but eventually you’re going to end up in the Lehigh Valley of Pennsylvania, and it won’t be so bad (although you’ll be dramatic and think it is). Each and every time you start a new school your twin will be right across the hall, and ready to give you a comforting hug at recess when that kid Matt tells you you’re an idiot everyday. Rachel won’t ever go anywhere, so don’t freak out when scary stuff starts to happen a few years later, it’s going to be ok.

When you’re 14 you’ll be living in Northampton, Pennsylvania, and you’ll meet the boy you’re going to marry. He will read the Hobbit for you because you really think it’s a snooze, and he kind of likes you. He’ll make sure you pass your English benchmarks… all without having to read more than page 1 (he’s a keeper Ashley).

Don’t worry when that kid who takes you to the prom breaks your heart and calls you fat when you’re 17. He’s a turd, and you’re actually kind of pretty. But you’ll figure that out next year when that kid who read the Hobbit for you begins to fall in love with you.

Your love story with him will be rich and deep, but also nuts. No, really. You run away again (you can spell now) when you’re 18 and marry him. I know. Where will you live? What will you eat? What about health insurance? —All minor details. At least you’ll think so then. But it’s ok, it will all work out in the long run. The way long run.

When he joins the Army and goes to Iraq a few years later, don’t worry. He’ll survive. You can probably put your phone down and not take it everywhere with you. Seriously, take a minute to relieve yourself in peace. You never get a phone call from the middle east when you’re in a public bathroom. You’ll think you screw everything up during this time, and you both are going to make a whole lot of mistakes, but hang in there and give yourself grace.

Remember those dreams you had about being a mom to a little girl? Well forget all that, because you’re going to have boys. Yep. Two of them. No girls. I promise you though, as you hold your first little boy in your hands and say his name, and he opens his eyes and looks at you—you’re going to fall in love. He’s more than you could have ever possibly imagined. His smiles, his laughter. The way he trusts you more than anyone and goes on to make you proud—-you didn’t want girls, believe me.

A few years later you’re going to make the biggest mistake of your life. My sweet Ashley—I wish I could hold you close and tell you it won’t be scary, but it will be. The sky will be green and the grass will be blue, nothing will make any sense. Everything you touch will seem to fall apart… but that’s God trying to get your attention. Out of it though, you’ll get your second boy. The sunny little ray of light that will be a balm of peace to your whole household. He’ll be the one who makes everyone laugh, and the comforting friend everyone needs. Being a boy mom is incredible then.

It’ll get better for two years, and then it’s going to get a whole lot worse. I know. How is it possible? Why you? What will happen? There won’t be any reasons why. I wish I could tell you don’t look for the answers, but I know you will. In all the wrong places.

Wow…you’re probably reading this letter and thinking…oof this is how my life turns out? Oh no! But hang on.

When you’re 37 you’re finally going to become a believer in Jesus. Not a knower of Jesus. What’s the difference? Well… you knew who He was before, but this year you are going to believe what God says about Himself, and you. You’ll have a season on your knees, wishing things were different, but God is going to tell you something: You’re my child. You’re loved. Trust me with your future. You’re forgiven. And the best one… no one can ever pluck you out of my hand.

It will change you. For the first time, sin will fall away, pain will turn to comfort, and all those questions you had won’t matter anymore. You’ll know His presence, and that will matter much more than answers.

So Ashley—Here you are. 39. You finally got yourself together. But for now… go back to Papa’s lap and let him sing and tell you stories. You’ll remember them all your life and how much he loves you. Hug Mom, and Dad, and Rachel… and just know… you’re gonna be ok.

Love,
Ashley, 39.