Since I was a wee girl I have been a lover of words. I tend to devour a well-crafted plot like a plate of Donna Benton's no-bake cookies. Words have shaped me and challenged me and comforted me over the years.

As important as words are, these days I am learning what it means to speak Love with less words; wild and faithful love, without borders or expectations or rules. As I have slipped into adulthood and crept quietly towards middle age, I've been watching someone expand the boundaries of her love. Simply put, she lives a lifestyle of love.

This person is my Momma. And today is her birthday.

The day she was born, she made the local news. You see, my Momma and her Sissies were the first triplets born in Shasta County, California. 

And as legend goes, every year the local paper would do a story about the Triplets and they would have to get their picture taken.

With a two year old and 3 babies in the house, I can't imagine the chaos and joy and exhaustion that echoed from those walls. We all grew up on stories of the antics of the Triplets and their big Sissie. My favorite story is when the little girls wanted some extra cash so they went door to door in their grandmother's neighborhood selling tickets to a spaghetti dinner. Unfortunately, my Great Grandmother learned of the dinner when a hungry crowd of neighbors showed up on her doorstep.

My Mom's well-worn Bible sits on the coffee table in the living room, a testament to years of soaking in Gods word and petitioning the throne for her children. The Lumberjack swears that he's alive today because she prayed through many nights when, as a young dad, he regularly pushed his limits driving a big rig through icy mountain passes.

Momma, I hope your birthday is fabulous. Thank you for your kindness and loyalty and generosity. Thank you for teaching me about love. Thank you for laughing at my jokes and always encouraging me. Thank you for loving my Dad.

Happy Birthday, Marcie Jane. I love you so much. I'm so privileged to be your daughter.


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