years that teach.

Years.

Each one, another trip around the sun, another series of the seasons coming and going. 

Winter. 

Spring. 

Summer.

Fall. 

Repeat.

But it’s not repeating...because they're not at all the same, are they? Not by a long shot. Because there are some years that are just that - years. 

A block of time, in which you are living and working and loving your people, and nothing really seems to change much. 

And then, there are other years that change us in ways we could never have seen coming. Years that affect us far below our surface - years that burrow into our chests and make a home inside of us. Years that scar us - for better or for worse.

I’ve found that there are years that teach. And what we learn is hardly ever up to us.

• Sixteen taught me that friendships are only as true as the people inside of them. And that the same hands that held yours can and will cut you open.

• Eighteen taught me self-reliance, God's comfort, and that I am far stronger and more capable than I ever imagined.

• Twenty taught me I have good intuition and to listen to my gut. It taught me what it looked like to stand up and leave the table when I didn't believe in what was being served. When everyone else stayed seated. It taught me that I'm strong enough to stand alone.

• Twenty-Three showed me exactly what the words "from death to life" look like; and I have never felt something more deeply in my existence. Twenty-Three taught me that miracles were not reserved for Bible times alone. Miracles are not historic fairy tales. They are as real as life and death and they are for the here and now. 

• Twenty-Four taught me not to shrink for a man, just because loving a strong woman was too intimidating for him. Good men are worth the wait. Good men will hold on to a strong woman. And strong women? We don't mind waiting and living in the meantime.

• Twenty-Five taught me what falling in love really looked like. And love? It just so happened that it looked like a three-pound baby girl born on November 8th, her tiny heart beating over mine through her paper-thin skin. A love that made my life bright and whole in a way I'd never been.

• Twenty-Eight taught me that not every risk has a happy ending...but that trying is still brave. It taught me grief in stages. Loud, sobbing grief that everyone sees...and the other silent grief. The kind that hits you square in the chest at 2am, stealing your breath. It taught me that you learn to live with it, as well as with the memories of the people you lose. It taught me why women name their daughters after their grandmothers...because they never really leave us.

• Twenty-Nine taught me rock bottom is as good a place as any to build off of. It taught me to give until I was depleted. It taught me sacrifice & redemption. It taught me the definition of being held when I was empty. It taught me all over again that the love of a real family is more than the Christmas dinners, the home videos, the inside jokes, the birthdays. Sometimes real family life is sleeping in the trenches, begging the sun to come up - just please rise already - taking turns being strong.

• Thirty taught me to start over. Taught me that an hour in a therapist's office, sobbing out lies I'd believed for over a decade, was an hour well-spent. Heaving the spiritual and relational trauma I’d lived out between sobs, speaking them out loud in that room - it made them less powerful. Thirty taught me that yup, the date can be wonderful and yet, he’ll never text back - and you can choose to laugh about it all. Thirty taught me that I could be my own home. And though I knew it before - Thirty made it real to me that Jesus has room at His table for all. Traveling on my road or the road opposite or parallel, we are all just trying to make it. Lost or found, dark or light-skinned, straight or gay or something else entirely, rich or poor, successful at life or barely scraping by - there is room. There is forever and always room to come as you are. He bids you to come. As human beings, we have no place to judge anyone. We have been called to love and Jesus will work the rest out. Because He is GOD. And I am not.

• Thirty-One taught me that you can't plan for anything. It taught me that life can surprise you in good ways, too - despite the dumpster fires & chaos. It taught me that beyond a doubt - love makes a family. It taught me not to put people in a box. It taught me that I still have a lot to learn and become. It taught me that walking away from toxic & divisive people is necessary. It taught me that knowing who you are and what matters to you and why - that needs to be enough. You can't make people understand if they don't want to. And you don't need them to understand. Sometimes water is thicker than blood, and that truth? That is incredibly beautiful, to be chosen. It taught me that time moves simultaneously at a snail's pace and at lightning speed - some weird trick of time and space.

• Thirty-Two. Today, I am 32. Oh, Thirty-Two, I have such hope for you. I hope you are full of happy tears, determination and GROWING. I hope the stretch marks cover my heart as it expands with more of life and more authentic living. Thirty-Two, teach me that different paths are gifts. Teach me that life can look nothing like I planned, but still be beyond-my-imagination beautiful. Surprise me, Thirty-Two. And if I can ask - I would be so beyond grateful to invite another of those miracles, Jesus, if You wouldn't mind? Please.

Cheers to you, Thirty-Two.

I know that there is more, even though I have already been given abundantly more than I deserve.

I know there is more.

I’m believing for more.

I’m leaving room for it.