Into the Fire

One of my favorite memories as a little girl is swinging on my dad's arm, hanging from his flexed bicep. Dad was an amazing man who loved his family and worked hard to be the example of a strong but often tender man, truly a self-made man, son of Italian immigrant parents, who probably never finished junior high school but worked from being a box boy to become an Executive VP of a retail chain. I put him and my mom through the grind in my late teens and twenties, but they always let me know how much they loved me and how I could always come home if I ever needed to. 

Another memory I treasure is going camping with my BFF and her parents to Sun Lakes State Park in eastern Washington. We had the greatest times during those hot summer weekends. Truly those were some of the best times of my young life.  

When I was around four years old I got to experience a dream come true when we visited relatives in Montana. My first horseback ride turned out to be a bit of a thriller and really scared my parents – but not me. The horse I rode decided I wasn't strong enough to hold him so he galloped away with me. The guide had to chase after us and grab his rein to pull him up. I apparently thought it was great fun – and, of course, the man who "rescued" me rode a white horse. 

These are just a few of my favorite old memories. Would love to read some of yours. 

Father, you've protected me my entire life. There's no way in this life or eternity that I can ever thank you enough. In the Name of Jesus, Amen.