My parents!

I received 2 things in the mail today that convinced me who to dedicate my next post to: my parents, Bill and Joyce Allen. My dad is a preacher in North Carolina and today I received his bulletin article from the church bulletin. He had told me he was going to write about me and the miscarriage, but when I read it, I cried today. It was simple and sweet and thoughtful. It told his church family how much he loved his daughter and how deeply sad he feels at the loss of his first grandbaby. Then I looked a little further through the mail and had already received a card from one of the members at their church. I felt so much joy at the thought of being prayed for, not just by people who know and love me, but by people who don't even really know who I am, but love my parents so much that they had to reach out to me.

This weekend my parents were asked to speak at a conference in Raleigh, North Carolina, about raising Godly children. My sister and I, even though we've had our moments, we are still Godly women who strive every day to be closer to our Creator. We both married Christian men who try to lead us to Heaven and have been extremely involved with our church family. This is a testimony to the incredible parents were blessed with. Neither one of my parents grew up going to church on a regular basis. Neither had the every-waking-moment-at-church upbringing that I was blessed to have. But my dad always said that even if he couldn't be the child in the multi-generational faith family picture, he could be the grandpa in the middle, surrounded by all of his Christian children and grandchildren.

While others might disagree, I loved being a Preacher's kid. I loved growing up hearing my Daddy's voice over the speakers in a big auditorium. I loved being taught by my mother and all of her friends. My parents never once forced me to believe in God, but constantly lived examples of faith around me every day. Even though they weren't perfect, they allowed me to not be perfect either. When mistakes were made, (and I was the worst one out of the 2 of us...), I was never unloved or unforgiven. I was always taught that nothing could separate me from God's love and the same thing goes for my parents as well. I always felt loved, funny, beautiful, smart and capable. My parents still tell me I can do anything I want to do and encourage me in any endeavor I contemplate attempting.

One of the most difficult times in my life was when my parents moved to North Carolina. I always thought that I would live all over the place, but my parents would always be home. And it has been a struggle living life without them 10 minutes away. But they have done their very best to call, visit, and provide constant support for Brian and me, and Manda and Paul since they moved almost 3 years ago.

Getting to tell them face to face that I was pregnant was a moment that will forever be etched into my memory. Feeling their joy and amazement at what was about to happen brought me so much happiness. And as our trip to Disney drew to a close and we started to worry about the baby, saying good-bye was one of the hardest things to do. Talking to them through that following week brought me so much comfort. And hearing the pain and sorrow in their voice as they tried to comfort me through the loss again soothed my pain. I know they hurt when I hurt and they feel joy when I feel joy. Their love is not unlike the love my Heavenly Father has for me. They have been constant examples of that love my entire life and I am a better person for being their daughter. My only prayer is that I can be that kind of example to my children, as they have done for me. I love my parents so much and I feel so blessed to be their "baby girl".


Mom and me on the Teacups!


Dad and Brian outside of the Aerosmith Rockin Roller Coaster ride


The four of us at Downtown Disney


The six of us on the Riverwalk in San Antonio at Christmas last year