Wednesday, August 24, 2011

Impending Doom, er, Day...

In less than a month a day will occur that marks the 25th year of my life on earth beginning. For anyone reading this thinking "Twenty five isn't old! What is she talking about??" please read on...
No offense meant to anyone, but this next birthday I am about to celebrate is a big one. Somehow, in my mind, 25 seems old. It seems like a plethora of things should be happening or have happened so far in my life, and to be honest, I'm not there yet. Now, I've never been someone who has put birthdays to events happening in life, probably because for most of my life I've believed (and still do) that all that 'being normal' stuff is ridiculous and I'm very happy having my life be on its own timeline, one that God particularly laid out for me. That being said, these emotions I've been feeling seem VERY foreign to me. Its not that I don't like what is going on in life right now. I very much do. Its just weird to be at the 25th year of my life and consider what I assumed would or would not have happened by now. For instance:
I thought by now I would:
- have figured out what style I like. I'm still all over the map. Sporty one day. Dressed up/girly the next.
- be working in a different modality than x-ray.
- own a car. (I did, but sold it. So now, to my name, I don't own one.)
- have a few more stamps in my passport.
- enjoy wearing makeup. (Still hate it.)
- be settled.
- know how to play the guitar.
- have grown out of being so attached to my family. I stinkin' love them!
I also thought by now I wouldn't:
- be living in the Eugene/Springfield area
- be married. (Might come as a shock, but I totally didn't expect to be married to such an incredible man.)
- be so physically inactive. I had assumed my twenty's would have me in the best shape. There's still time.
- be wondering about what my life's work really is.
- be living in a warehouse.
But for as much as I haven't expected or am surprised by in life, I am also excited for the fact that more is to come. I sort of left my 25 before 25 list to the birds, and yet the past year has seen numerous adventures and firsts. Huge successes and a few trials, and despite what I imagined life would look like a quarter of a century in, I wouldn't trade this for my supposed best.
Here's to 25.

Tuesday, August 23, 2011


I took a short break from posting. Obviously. But this is why:
I recently spent six days at Camp Crestview with a grip of jr. highers. They reminded me how cool they are, and God reminded me how precious they are to Him. It was worth every sleep deprived moment.

Wednesday, August 3, 2011

Got to Live It

A couple days ago I went to visit my grandparents. I was headed to the lake on my day off anyway, and since they live within five minutes of my favorite lake, I decided to stop in and visit. I talked with my grandpa about his recovery (he recently had a knee surgery), his medications and his plans. For an 82 year old, he sure isn't slowing down at all. The past couple of months were probably just a hiccup in his mind. To everyone else it seemed like maybe his life was nearing it's end, but to him, it was just a short diversion to keep him a little longer from completing his to-do list.
As I shared with him my newest hobby (rock climbing), I received the ever-familiar eye roll simultaneously executed with the head shake and slight chuckle. I'm not sure that everyone receives this response, but in the past few years, I have learned to appreciate and except this each time I share something new in my life with Grandpa. It is usually closely followed by a remark about his blood pressure rising or anxiety climbing another notch to which I typically offer a sheepish grin and chuckle of my own, but no apology. To me, the progression is a completely normal one. It was at Grandpa's house that we made forts out of hay bales, climbed trees too tall, and chased wild ponies with ropes, attempting to catch and 'train' them. It was all possible at Grandpa's, and all encouraged, I might add. And had it not been, I wouldn't be who I am. I'd have missed an integral part of myself, a part that I consider definitive. That's why no apologies are offered. He wouldn't expect one. I have got to live this life of mine, and really live it out. Giving an apology would send the message that it was a mistake, but it has in fact all been very intentional.
As I drove back home, I caught a scene that reminded me of this again: a small boy riding his bike next to his mom took a nasty spill, his bike on top of him, hands and one knee kissing the black top. My momentary glance didn't last long enough to see what happened next, but if the boy had any sense, and his mom was smart about it, he'd get back on the bike and keep going. He'd brush off the gravel, wipe his blood on his shorts and mount the bike again. Because that's the beauty of life and spills. We learn, grow and mature through the wipe-outs, but the benefit of that process is experienced in much greater measure when we get back up and try again.
Its a life lesson really: you're not finished yet. Try again. Give it another chance.
And just like my Grandpa, even at 82, we've all still got things on our to-do list.