life at 27

Raise your hand if your life looks exactly how you thought it would by now.

Yeah, me neither.

But in a lot of ways, my life looks a whole lot better. Better than I could've dreamed. Better than I would've ever thought to ask God for.

To be honest, i never really tried to imagine my life at 27 in much detail. it always sounded so old. and so far away. i've never been a huge planner - much more of a fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants sort of girl. but i think had you asked 17-year-old me where i'd be in 10 years, i would've told you i'd be living in southern california with my husband and kid(s). not too far from my family or friends. and we'd be doing something exciting with our lives. i wouldn't know much else, but those few details would have been certain.

And I never would've written in the chapters about my parents divorcing, or my grandparents battling dementia, or having my heart break as I was exposed to the suffering of others here & around the world. And I certainly wouldn't have dreamed of learning lessons like having to fight hard for what I want or overcoming my fears or learning how to let go when God says No. All the parts including pain and disappointments of hope deferred would've never made their way into my story.

But I still think the real life version is better.

Don't get me wrong. I miss the days of my healthy grandparents more than I could ever begin to put into words. I miss the familiar stability of my family being a strong backbone in my life. I sometimes wish I could go back to the ignorant bliss of not realizing how much I've been given, in turn not knowing how much is required of me as I become aware of what's happening in our world. It would be great if the things I want most in life came easy and without any risk, and if letting go was never an option because I only ever wanted for things within my reach.

Yeah, 17 was pretty good. But 27 has a beauty to it that's only come from the tough times in between.

I've never meditated more on eternity & the beautiful hope of Heaven than I have while witnessing the winter of my grandparents lives unfold. And in my own pain, I've experienced being comforted in ways I never knew existed. In turn, I've also experienced the sweetness of being able to comfort others in their pain. The type of learning which makes tangible sense of Paul's words when he tells us to rejoice in our sufferings.

Becoming aware of how evil, evil can be, has fueled my heart with passion about God being good and Jesus showing us what it means to bring His kingdom to earth. A conviction that has forever shifted the trajectory of my life.

Deep, meaningful relationships hold the biggest value in my life, yet left to my own devices, they'd all probably only go ankle deep. My propensity has always been to avoid any kind of awkward conflict, but thankfully, i've had people show me what it means to not give up on the important stuff. i've been humbled to learn from them. to know they've fought to love me well. they've taught me how to stand up for what is right and how to fight for those i love. even when that means we get into messy water having to sort through uncomfortable conflict. even if that means we see each other ugly cry. they've showed me that to love people well, you don't settle for mediocre variations of it.

Of course there's also a flip side to fighting for what i want. and i think i hate this learning the most. In the same way i want to be proud of myself for not giving up too soon, i want to be proud of myself for learning how to let go.

Unfortunately, I don't think this will ever come easy. The only comfort I find is in hindsight. For all the times letting go was the absolute last thing I could have wished for, it helps to realize I wouldn't pick those things back up for million dollars now. not even a billion dollars. (okay, maybe a trillion.) But it still sucks. It's still awful. But at least, now I have a rooted hope. A little experience under my belt to nudge me ahead, to whisper in my ear how one day I'll look back at whatever current reluctant release is on my plate and again be thankful I don't always get what I want.

Simply remembering how God has come through for me in the past breathes courage for today. Isn't that true? Sometimes we have to reflect back on ways God has shown Himself faithful to us to remember why we can trust Him today. Why we can relinquish control of the things we hold so tightly. Besides, I dont know about you, but if I were given complete control, there's no doubt I would ruin my life. If not by way of total stupidity, then certainly by the opposite extreme, death of sheer boredom. I'm just glad I'm not God. (We should all be glad I'm not God. Yikes.)

One thing I'm sure of in my life, God knows me better than I know myself. Something I literally have to repeat out loud when I am disappointed. When things don't my way. When no matter how hard I try, I still don't understand. Because ultimately, I believe with my whole heart God is good. And that He loves me. And that He is working things together for good in and through me. In that, I am liberated to keep dreaming. And to take steps forward. And to risk. And to hope. And to know when I feel set back, God is orchestrating me in a better direction.

I'm willing to bet we'd find the same theme repeating if we all exchanged stories. That contrary to every fear raised in our flesh when things don't go our way... when we trust God to be good... we actually allow ourselves to experience His imagination for our lives. Something tells me, He paints in colors we've never seen. I don't know where my life will be at 37, but that's the kind of story I want.