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The First Breath

Did you think I forgot to start telling you my story? I’ll meet you here on the pages once a week. It’s my prayer that you will be stirred to share your story with others and make a difference. Why? Because we’re a part of His-story after all!

When God saw that my form was complete the time came for me to be born and breath my first breath. One of my first gifts was the breath that he gave me. The Creator had placed me in a certain state, within a certain county, on a certain hill, with a beautiful family, and a great dad and mom. On November 11, 1979, I was baptized as in infant at St. Paul’s Lutheran Church. Growing up that was one of my favorite places to be because we went every Sunday. My mom taught us to worship the Lord, to sing songs, tithe, sit still in church, read the Bible, and to acolyte (just to name a few). We were all one big happy church family.


My Dad, Mom, 4 sisters and I (and our little brother) grew up in the mountains of northern Pennsylvania. Dad loved to show us how to do new things all the time. We learned to fish in the pond, pick out red squirrels in the tree for him to target practice with, pick blackberries, fly a kite, cut wood ( and stack it), snowmobile, ride bike…get the idea? Mom was like a secret agent to me, she shaped fishing lures for a fishing company and was their secret weapon- she worked so diligently, all the time. She loved to teach us music, to sing, and to take care of each other. My sisters were my best friends. We went on countless adventures together playing in the nearby creeks, woods, and riding our bikes a good 4-5 miles one way to the nearest local store for a sucker (aka lollipop). They each represented something different to me, the oldest was wisdom (she had her own room you know), the second was compassion, the third was adventurous, and the fourth was my “twin”. I don’t remember doing anything without her – except when in school of course. I am the youngest girl and John came when I was older, about seven, he was cute as a button and I almost didn’t know what to do with him being a boy.

From first being held until the 5th grade we lived in the country surrounded by nature, love, and each other. God was watching over us, little did I know the seeds he was planting in my heart that would continue to grow – even now, deeper still.

Food for thought: How does your story begin? Read Psalm 139 and Genesis 2 to get started. Remember the only way your  children are going to know your story is if you tell them.

Then the Lord answered me and said: “Write the vision And make it plain on tablets, That he may run who reads it.

Need a journal and a pen? I’ll send one to the first five who ask.

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Vicki L. Moag
About Vicki L. Moag

Author Vicki L. Moag grew up in the mountains of Pennsylvania with a love for music and the outdoors. Now, whether singing in a choir, the congregation, or teaching children, she finds a way to share her love of music with others. She currently resides with her family in South Carolina, where they enjoy countless adventures together.


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You were made to Praise God by Vicki L. Moag