It’s my birthday today and early this morning I came across this sweet book.
Written by 8-year old me. It spoke of my siblings, playing Barbies, and a birthday celebration with my then BFF (Tanya).
Who, for the record, did NOT have brown hair. Nor did she live in a pink house.
Keep in mind, I was only eight. Which means the book was written 36 years ago!
Holy smokes, I’m getting old.
Tony and I also did some calculating and realized we are both approaching the very age my parents were when we began dating.
Holy smokes, I AM getting old!
I wasted much of my youth concerned about things that I could care less about now. So much time, just gone in the blink of an eye. To put things in perspective, my eating disorder began at age 12 and lasted nine full years.] It would be waaaay too easy to get similarly caught up in the process of aging by focusing too much on outwardly appearance and imperfections. I am ever determined to continue embracing the person God made me to be instead of chasing after something I am not.
But man, am I getting old.