My loving and serving husband put his action/blow-up/shooting/killing/car racing desires aside and rented me a chick flick on Saturday.
I cried, mostly because it took me right back to that time in my life, where I too was pregnant at 16, and going through the adoption process for my baby, but also because it's good to remember where we've been, because it's made us who we are.
It's crazy to think that I walked down the halls of highschool, with a baby popping out of my belly, seeing all the the stares from other girls, who were the very same age, but somehow, were now way younger than me.
I gave birth to a baby just 2 months after my 17th birthday. Looking at my life now, it's so easy to forget, to see a mother of two, a housewife who keeps her house clean, a leader in her church, someone with a house, two cars, a good man... Forgetting the muck and mire I once found myself in, the pit I thought I'd never climb my way out of.
I want to remember where I've been today. Remembering all that He has done in my life, all that He has saved me from.
I see all that when I look at her.