I turn 29 [again] tomorrow, as if the sound of the number [29+1] isn't explanation enough of why this growing older thing can kiss my big toe. I've never been one to dread birthdays. I was always a "looking forward to the next big thing" kinda gal. Well this is big, I suppose.
- First, there was 5....a whole hand old. Big school, big deal to a kid.
- Then there was 10.....two hands. I might as well be driving.
- Then 13....."Officially a teenager." I’m practically an adult. God bless my parents.
- Then 16.....Driving... My first taste of independence. Dear...Lord.
- 18.....the ability to vote (my knowledge of politics at this age was summed up by the movie Legally Blonde...) + legal independence & the ability to buy tobacco [yay lungs]
- 21...The ultimate birthday! Or so thought my 21-year-old arrogant, prideful, don't tread on me, self.
"Ha. [smug face] You'd like to see my ID? ba-
BAM! I'm 21. Go ahead, ask me my birthday."
[extreme eye roll].
However, it was like I blinked and the thrill and excitement of turning 21 that I had so long anticipated was over. Well that was fun [sarcasm]. Ok, continue.
- 25...Insurance goes down [all the praise hands!]
Bill Engvall fans: here's your sign.
And now....
- 30...there I said it.... Hm...the year for...eh...someone help me out,
here.
Not really sure what milestone this marks other than documenting an excuse on paper for my bones to ache and joints to crack when I move from sit to stand. Or sit to sit back. Whichever.
- I’m THREE flashes of both hands. That just takes too long. Or six whole hands of old. Nope...
- I have now been driving for 1/2 of my lifetime. And most of the time, now, I'd actually prefer to ride/be driven. Most days I’m a passenger in the Keely Carpool to work [perks of working with your hubs] and I love it. I get an extra 15 minutes of sleep on the way to daycare every day. It’s a sweet deal for a tired mama.
- Politics. Sorry, Elle Woods. I'm learning there's more to it than pink skirt suits. I am eager to vote because I actually have an opinion, not just because the law says I can. I read policy, I watch debates, I think for myself, for my family.
- Cigarette smoke now makes me vomit and I can have conversation after conversation about why taxes need to be higher on tobacco products.
- Insurance premiums begin to go back up...because I'm no spring chicken anymore and I've got a health history [or five] to disclose.
- And my favorite: "Hey hey hey...don't you need to see my ID...to make sure I'm of age to order this glass of wine?" Bless the waitress that cards someone else at my table and not me. No tip for you! (Joking...calm down fellow servers)
In all actuality, though the sound of the number has me all in a tizzy, I am super thankful for who I am going into my third decade versus who I was going into my second. I was a child of trend. Whatever was cool, whatever was "in," whatever it took to gain the approval, acceptance, attention of others. Yikes.
In the past decade I have let so much of that worthlessness go. Some intentionally, some unintentionally. And as a result, I have found much the opposite of my preconceived notions of getting older to be true. As a twenty-something I craved independence. I made a ton of mistakes, most of which I couldn't own because of hella-pride. I wanted to do it all on my own, but the minute I messed up, heyyyy, not my fault. I idolized sin and placed my confidence in people/things that did indeed disappoint me. Over the course of the past few years, the more independence I've gained, the more I've realized how dependent I am on my Creator. The more responsibility entrusted to me, the more I see just how inadequate I am without His guidance and grace.
Somewhere in the last ten years I crossed to the other side... to the side of agreeing that mom and dad were actually right [how do those words taste?!] They weren't ruining my life, they were teaching and protecting me. They "weren't so-and-so's parents"[a comment that was used often in our house and drove me nuts]. They did know best. It was their lack of trust in other people - not their lack of trust in me. They weren't as "out of touch" as I had thought. It all makes sense as I go into this next decade, now a mother myself.
I was talking with some friends at church this past Sunday about my struggle with turning 30, and how I was refusing to acknowledge my birthday this week. They spoke a little truth into me that is changing my perspective. They said that their 30s has been a season of contentment. That's a beautiful thing for someone who constantly found satisfaction in 'more.' Last year, we decided to focus our energy on "less." Less house, less stuff, less money, less self-consumption. It's been a great segway into this new decade. We have come to place less value in our paychecks, the size of our home, what's in our closet, what taunts us from the shelves of Target (which is my biggest struggle to date).
I by no means have things figured out. Let's be real, most days I'm still a mess. I still want my farmhouse, acreage, a basketball team family with 5+ kids, chickens, goats and every rug and pillow that I pass at Target. But I am incredibly grateful for the growth that has taken place in the last ten years. So with that in mind, I say bring on 30. Gravity may be playing jokes, my hair may be re-considering its position, my hormones may be spiteful, my metabolism may be peacing out...or laughing...I can't figure her out, and my face may now be welcoming in too many friends that go by the name of 'wrinkles,' but my soul is finding nourishment in the amazing things God intended for us to enjoy here. And that's reason enough to celebrate. Here's to 30! And probiotics...gotta get on that...
In the past decade I have let so much of that worthlessness go. Some intentionally, some unintentionally. And as a result, I have found much the opposite of my preconceived notions of getting older to be true. As a twenty-something I craved independence. I made a ton of mistakes, most of which I couldn't own because of hella-pride. I wanted to do it all on my own, but the minute I messed up, heyyyy, not my fault. I idolized sin and placed my confidence in people/things that did indeed disappoint me. Over the course of the past few years, the more independence I've gained, the more I've realized how dependent I am on my Creator. The more responsibility entrusted to me, the more I see just how inadequate I am without His guidance and grace.
Somewhere in the last ten years I crossed to the other side... to the side of agreeing that mom and dad were actually right [how do those words taste?!] They weren't ruining my life, they were teaching and protecting me. They "weren't so-and-so's parents"[a comment that was used often in our house and drove me nuts]. They did know best. It was their lack of trust in other people - not their lack of trust in me. They weren't as "out of touch" as I had thought. It all makes sense as I go into this next decade, now a mother myself.
I was talking with some friends at church this past Sunday about my struggle with turning 30, and how I was refusing to acknowledge my birthday this week. They spoke a little truth into me that is changing my perspective. They said that their 30s has been a season of contentment. That's a beautiful thing for someone who constantly found satisfaction in 'more.' Last year, we decided to focus our energy on "less." Less house, less stuff, less money, less self-consumption. It's been a great segway into this new decade. We have come to place less value in our paychecks, the size of our home, what's in our closet, what taunts us from the shelves of Target (which is my biggest struggle to date).
I by no means have things figured out. Let's be real, most days I'm still a mess. I still want my farmhouse, acreage, a basketball team family with 5+ kids, chickens, goats and every rug and pillow that I pass at Target. But I am incredibly grateful for the growth that has taken place in the last ten years. So with that in mind, I say bring on 30. Gravity may be playing jokes, my hair may be re-considering its position, my hormones may be spiteful, my metabolism may be peacing out...or laughing...I can't figure her out, and my face may now be welcoming in too many friends that go by the name of 'wrinkles,' but my soul is finding nourishment in the amazing things God intended for us to enjoy here. And that's reason enough to celebrate. Here's to 30! And probiotics...gotta get on that...
Love Reading your Blogs!! Here's to 30!!!
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