For Christmas I went home to Nebraska. My family spent a week with my parents, siblings, spouses, nieces and nephews. When you put us all together there are 26 soon to be 27. It makes for a chaotic, but fun time as the adults play games and chat while the kids run around and play.

While we were together, we started talking about earliest memories. Apropos as I considered this post. I often wonder if my earliest memory is really mine. Or if it springs from the host of photos that accompany the event. I’ll let you decide.

Growing up in Georgia, I had a best friend Joanna. She and I shared a lot. Loving families. Parents that brought us up to love and serve God. And birth month. In fact, only one day separate our birthdays, so often we shared parties. The earliest one I remember is when we were two.

We were barely able to sit at the table, in our frilly dresses surrounded by other little girls, party hats, and balloons. We played games, blew out candles, and ate cake. Most important, we started a tradition…sharing our birthdays. Often throughout the years, we would do that. Not every year, but often enough that it always felt right.

We’ve shared many things. A love of learning. A love of writing. The ability to tell a good story – though Joanna outshines me in that category…if I could only talk her into writing a book! A love of adventure and reading. A strong interest in politics and current affairs. A heart for God and serving others.  Maybe, just maybe, it all started with that shared birthday party.