Sunday, September 29, 2013


Last month, August, was a big month for me. I turned 30. Thirty. One word, six letters, and two numbers brought together only by time.

Thirty had not meant much to me until that infamous day came, August 4th, 2013. I'd noticed it looming in the distance, somewhat hidden by the mountains of the future and the haze of today. But as I made my way through my 20s, I somewhat forgot it was a destination I was actually destined for. And then, there it was.

All of sudden, thirty wasn't just a number I joked about, or some mile marker off in the distance, or even a reminder to hurry up and get my “life” in order. It was all around me. And, surprisingly it felt good. It wrapped itself around me so naturally, so comfortably, I wondered if it was actually true. Am I really thirty? What does that even mean? Do I look thirty? I don't feel thirty… Wait, what does thirty feel like…. Should it feel different? Do I feel different? Hmmm.

It’s funny the assumptions you put onto something, or the expectations you attach to experiences before you’ve ever even had them. I supposed, if I'm honest, when I was in my early 20s, (that sounds so funny to say… my early 20s.. Tut tut tut!) and imagined what thirty would be like, I probably would have said something along these lines :

I will be married, semi-settled down, and have my life mainly “figured out.”                                                   (emphasis added on that final period)

And here I find myself, on September 29, 2013, nearly two months into my thirties…

Not married, or dating, or with any prospect of either at the moment. Less than 48 hours from beginning two months of the wildest travels I couldn't have even imagined on my own had I tried (Proverbs 16:9). Unsure of what this next year brings beyond the jingly days of December.

And the best part? I love it all... And I feel better than I've ever felt.

What does thirty feel like? Thirty feels like the adventures are just beginning. It feels like the person I am today is more me than the person that was “me” ten years ago. It feels like the skin I’m living in is more comfortable now, after being in it for three decades, than it was after only two. It feels like I am finally growing into more of myself, and that, my friends, is an incredible, indescribable, and welcome feeling.

On my animal themed 30th birthday, where I was a peacock :), a friend asked me what I wanted in this next year. After pausing for a moment, half for dramatic effect, and half because I had not thought about it at all yet, I answered with this, “I want to do things I have never done before. I want to step out in ways that make me feel a little uncomfortable. I want to take risks that seem unnatural to me.” I may regret saying those things, but for now I'm looking forward to where they could lead me.

Maybe it will be standing on a chair and telling a group of strangers in some random city square that they are chosen and dearly loved by the One True God, or helping lead a mass revival meeting somewhere in Africa where thousands get healed and saved... Maybe it will be booking a last minute ticket to a place I've never been, or traveling with only a carry-on and leaving my always overweight suitcase behind… Maybe it will be letting a friend take one step closer to my heart, or going on a date (yikes). Who knows...

Whatever it holds, I know this next year will be the best of my life, and the years after can only sequentially get better. Such is the beauty of growing up (in numbers not necessarily in heart ;), of getting more comfortable in your own skin, and embracing each year wholeheartedly as you grow more and more into the person you were created to be, and world changer you were destined to become...

Well, Thirty, you may have caught me off guard, but I am ready for you now. I am ready for me now.

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