Oftentimes when I meet people they ask, "Do you mind telling me how old you are?" I'm sure somewhere in the midst of our conversation my immaturity reared it's ugly head and gave them hints I'm a little younger than what they originally thought. When I say, "22," they gasp, call me a baby with a baby, etc. One time I even had an elderly lady advise me (because unbeknown to be me, I had asked her advice) to wait before I had any more children. I should have *fun* while I'm *young*.
I know some people think I am crazy. I got married six days after I turned 21 and had a baby 2 months before I turned 22. I know that is not normally what 21/22 year olds are doing.
But as I write this, I have a 13 month-old squealing with delight in the background as she bangs away on her pretend laptop, trying to copy her momma. And I have a husband who is currently working on his paper, eager to come home to me. I couldn't imagine my life any other way. Nor would I want it any other way. I have a husband who meant that he will love me to "death do us part," and a daughter who adores me. My heart is full. I have so much joy being a wife and mother; I know I am not missing out on any fun.
For me, every day feels like Valentine's Day. Jonathan delightfully comes home to me to greet me with a kiss; and Elizabeth anxiously walks toward me to give me bear hugs throughout the day. I am so thankful that God has given me both of them. And I understand that this joy is only a foretaste of the joy that is found in Him.
But of course, my romantic husband is making this day special for me. It's all a surprise. And I love surprises!