Eight years ago, I was pacing the hallways of the hospital, begging and pleading with you to make your grand debut. To just go ahead and come OUT already. In hindsight, maybe you were just giving the world a few extra moments of prep time before you entered the scene.
You, my girl, are one tiny, wild-haired ball of passion and fun. You have a fervor about you that gets stuff done. (And, sometimes, wears me flat out.) You have lots of words and lots of energy and lots and lots and lots of opinions. And good gracious, do you fill our home with laughter. You have this uncanny ability to diffuse any rocky situation with humor. It’s a blessing. AND it’s also a curse for me and your dad when we’re trying to discipline your way-too-witty-for-the-situation self.
You so have us pegged.
Ninjas are front and center in your life these days. A few months ago, I learned that you were coordinating an elaborate “ninja training” program on the school playground for any willing participant, and the love affair hasn’t run dry yet.
At eight years of age, you also love animals, art, soccer, basketball, Pokemon, and running shorts. You dislike mornings and having your hair brushed. The before-school struggle is JUST SO REAL OHMYGOSH.
Your best friends are Avery, Lucia, Elizabeth, and Carson. Your favorite subjects are math and art. Your favorite food is frozen pizza. The cheaper, the better. And when you grow up, you want to be a ninja. However, if those ninja aspirations don’t pan out, you’re quite clear that you’d settle for a job as the president.
Let me just tell you something, Mary Grace. As you grow older, you may have people tell you that you’re too much. Your personality too big. Your opinions too strong. Don’t listen to them. As long as you’re walking in truth and following the One who created you, don’t apologize for who you are. Don’t apologize for that personality and that voice of yours. For all of that passion that oozes out of you. Use it. Use it all and use it up. But do so in His strength and for His purposes. For HIS glory, not yours.
Happy 8th birthday, Mary Grace.
Get it, girl.
Oh, and P.S. This video? I attempted to interview you for your birthday. To capture the essence of Mary Grace, age 8. All I have to say is YEP. It’s ’bout right. Also, I need a nap.