Sometimes, 26

IMG_0763Sometimes you work late, you have to run a billion errands, and you get home at 7:45 and just make yourself a huge plate of pasta. At least I do.

Being 26 isn’t super glamorous. It isn’t what I necessarily thought it would be when I was younger. I mean, I used to think I’d get married at 22. (#eyeroll) We live in this world where we try to make our lives look amazingly exciting all the time. But we all know that isn’t real. This is real.

Sometimes, 26 looks like waking up just a little bit earlier, lighting the pumpkin candle, cuddling that chai in your hands and listening to the rain. Sitting still and catching up with yourself. It looks like taking the time to breathe and hear your own heart.

Sometimes, 26 looks like sitting across from a younger you and getting to speak life into their hurts and struggles. This is my favorite part of life currently. I realized recently that my mentor when I was in college was 26 – that’s me now. Life is weird like that.

Sometimes, 26 means going to small group and saying GUYS. I’m just running on empty. Pray for me? And they do, because they are faithful and wonderful and have my back. Sometimes growing up means becoming more dependent – on others and on God.

Sometimes, 26 means laying on the floor and crying. Just letting it all out because you can’t hold onto it any longer. It looks and feels like falling apart, but actually it’s letting God put you back together – the right way.

Sometimes, 26 is having moments where you stop and look out on your life in awe – at the people God has given you and the places He’s brought you to. Sometimes, it’s just a giant feeling of wonder.

Apparently, 26 also means lots of difficult conversations, learning to stand up for yourself and others, and working through loss and how to find closure when someone doesn’t explain their goodbye. I want to say what.ever. to all of that. I’m learning to sit in the mess and let God bring me through it.

And apparently, with each passing year, it gets harder to say goodbye to your Mom and Dad, and easier to imagine yourself moving back into their house. Again, life is weird.

Sometimes, growing up is a plain plate of pasta. And sometimes, it is a grand adventure. This is life. Finding God in the messy, mundane, and miraculous of each passing year. Trusting that there is more time coming; we don’t have to live in the “not enough.” Learning that God is present to us in every moment, whether we’re crying on the floor or laughing with the crowd.

Sometimes life with God looks like the Superbowl, and sometimes it looks like a plate of pasta. Either way, we are called to be faithful. We are called to follow Him. We are called to know our belovedness.

When this is our identity, our calling, our purpose – nothing else matters too much. Nothing else rattles us. Criticism, comparison, jealousy, and greed fall by the way side because we know that we are living out of who God has called us to be.

We live in this social media world where we put out our best selves, wanting to be liked for having a cool life. We only post the pictures where we look best and our lives seem impressive.

Truth is, sometimes life looks like a plate of pasta. But let me tell you, that pasta was GOOD.

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I write to process, and sometimes send those thoughts out into the void. Passionate about Jesus and people and bringing those two together. Living in and loving Denver. Working with college students, who are the coolest. Seeking Jesus and JOY in everything.

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