Guys, I’m going to be 21 soon.
Which doesn’t mean anything since I won’t really drink. I guess it’s cool that my driver’s license is now horizontal… but I can’t even enjoy that because my picture is so horrible.
My mom says it’s cute and that I always look like that.
If I look like my new 21 license picture all the time, then I have been living a lie the past 2.1 decades. And a re-evaluation may be in order.
My room is hot because the radiator was left on too long. Those things can misbehave if you take your eyes off of them for one second, that’s one thing I’ve learned in the past 21 years.
And my recital is tonight. I crunched the numbers and have probably practiced close to 100 hours this semester. 100 hours of the past 4 months of my 21st year of life were spent in the practice room. Call it what you will—it’s funny how when you’re doing what you’re made for, stuff like three hours of practicing per day isn’t as miserable as it sounds.
Though it sounds pretty miserable.
I’m reminiscing on this 21st year of my life…weird to think I’m about to start my 22nd. This year was full of so many answered prayers, so many revelations, so many opportunities for God to show me exactly where I was supposed to be which happens to be here…albeit “here” happens to be shirtless and blogging in my stifling room.
Too much info?
Well, I know that 12 months, six boys, approximately four meltdowns, three roommates, and two weddings after my last birthday have done so much more to my heart than determine whether I’m wearing a shirt or not, or whether I’d forget to turn the radiator off.
I’ve learned that each of the 12 months was a gift, whether it is spent doing exactly what you’re supposed to be doing or whether you’re spending it on your knees begging God to show you what is next. Our God is not a God of wasting time…it is all so full of purpose. And sometimes that purpose is just being closer to His heart as we seek.
I’ve learned from those 6 boys that…boys can be great. The right ones. But not as great as I thought. They can’t fulfill or make insecurities go away…they almost always disappoint. Usually in a painfully awkward way. They aren’t some magical solution; they aren’t the goal of life. Most aren’t worth wasting our time daydreaming or getting our hopes up. And you cannot make an okay one great. But there are some good ones, really, really good ones, and the cynic in me will concede that there are some out there that are worth waiting for.
Oh, my meltdowns. Some of them lasted days, others were just an hour or so of craziness. They showed me that I am so grateful I have a God that can handle meltdowns. He takes this mess that falls at His feet and says, I’ve been waiting for you. They keep me humble and leaning so hard on the Rock I would have never turned to if life hadn’t brought me to a point of tear-stained, exhausted meltdowns.
And my three roommates in the past year…they have shown me that life isn’t about never being annoyed. People do things, it annoys us. Such the cycle of life goes. My goal of life is not to remain unannoyed…it is to love. So when all Liz did was plan her wedding and when Hailey’s alarm went off every five minutes for an hour and when Sarah leaves my closet light on, I just smile. Because I want them to smile at me when I annoy them. And sometimes that tension reveals the dark things in our hearts we never knew were there.
And the two weddings. They showed me what it means to stop thinking about myself for once. And to just be happy for someone—not because I am getting anything out of it, not because my life will be any better. But I can be happy simply because my best friend is happy, and that is enough. Being single and being in a wedding can be one of the hardest things…but they were the best things for me.
And there are little things I’ve learned…like don’t buy Christmas underwear from an outgoing black cashier, don’t friend boys on facebook just because you danced with them, don’t come to Grace to find a husband, don’t start running if you like your bust size, don’t wait to pack until midnight,
I could go on.
And life does go on. After awkward moments, after failed ugly sweater contests, after our radios are stolen, after fights with friends, after wisdom teeth, after formals and recitals, after our friends all find those good boys I was talking about, while I’m still sitting here.
But those little speed bumps keep us going slow. Going slow so we can enjoy things like sushi, like long talks, like road trips, like bachelorette parties, like being the student body secretary, like learning more about Him.
So I’m going a little slower, with some peace in each step.
Except I still haven’t gotten over my license picture…that’s going to take awhile.
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