I’ve been twenty for three days now, and I like it.
Fall break last year was so fast and stressful, even though I got to be home and see my family. This time around, it’s been all about coffee keeping me warm and The Office making me want to rip Michael’s head off and smelling a lot of leaves on the sidewalks.
My grandparents’ sixtieth anniversary is next Thursday. I just reached the point in my life where I can fathom ten years……..but sixty? Sixty years spent with one person? Sixty years of up and down and excited and tired and kids and grandkids and each other? That is simply amazing.
I read a PuckerMob article listing ten things that show “you’re the mom of your friend group.” Obviously I read it, because even those on the edge of my friend group know that’s what everyone calls me. I’ve been wrestling with that name lately, for I love loving and serving and helping those in my life, but occasionally I need a break. I am usually okay with being the direct source of dinner plans and information, but every now and then it’s good to have someone else take the lead. I probably need to do a better job of relaying when I need help myself.
Humbleness. Humbleness. Humbleness.
I think God will always have to beat me over the head concerning this issue. Pride hits me in the most unlikely ways. Before Ohio, I just assumed leadership and motherliness as a natural part of my life. Now I have friends who applaud my strengths and verbalize their pride in me every day, and suddenly it’s more difficult than ever to remember that even the best intentions from my loved ones do not define me.
Hey God, please don’t let me be more stupid this twentieth year. Help me better grasp how time passes, and how I can make You proud without uplifting myself.