Today is my birthday. I’m 43 years old.
I received the first gift to honor the occasion at 12:54 a.m.
My 11th child. My seventh daughter.
I’m certain I’ve never received a birthday gift that is more precious, nor one that more truly defines the word “gift”.
I don’t know her name, yet. She hasn’t been awake much, and when she has been, she hasn’t wanted to talk about it. It must not be so important to her as it is to us.
We thought she would be Samuel, believing we have been “heard of God”, but that seems inappropriate for someone so pretty and petite and feminine.
It seems likely God has heard us, anyway.