Sunday, November 14, 2010


Growing up, everyone has that specific age that they think is old. As a high school freshman I remember having a teacher who was twenty-seven, and to me that seemed old. Ever since then I have been secretly dreading this birthday.

Today I turn twenty-seven.

And I don't feel old.

What a relief!

I've come a long way in twenty-seven years. I've learned things. I've grown up. I've grown in my relationship with Christ. I've become a wife. I've become a mother.

I've been blessed.

When I was young I used to wish I would wake up to a fresh blanket of snow outside. This year I didn't wish for that. I don't really like snow anymore.

But there is someone in my life who loves snow much more than I ever did. Her name is Camille. And when she discovered the first snowfall yesterday morning the joy on her face was the biggest (early) birthday blessing to me I could ever have imagined.

On this, my birthday, I find myself remembering my kids' birthdays.

Yes, now that I'm twenty-seven, birthdays are different. I don't anticipate gifts or surprises. I don't wonder who will remember. I don't want a fancy dinner.

All I want is to enjoy my family, watch my kids enjoy life (and snow!), and eat birthday cake that my mom and daughter made for me.

You didn't think I'd forget about birthday cake, did you?

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flat yeast bread said...

Happy birthday! 27 was always 'the' age I thought was old too. It always seemed like every youth pastor / youth leader I ever had was always 27, and they were without a doubt 'old'!