The One When I Turned 32

A day before my 32 birthday and I officially got…you guessed it…a mini-van. Didn’t think I’d actually do that at 31 but here we are and there is no going back. Eek!

My 31st year had it’s share of learning moments. We moved from 4 jobs to 2 careers and I began to find my footing in full-time kid church while being an entrepreneur’s  wife. I’ve seen our marriage start to find traction again as we began to better manage our exceptions of how different our lives have become. I’ve always been proud to be his wife but I think this year has been my favorite year watching him pursue his dreams. He really found his passion and I’ve seen him come more alive and wrecked then ever before. Our house always smells like coffee too…an added perk.

My 31 year also had me watching my youngest grow into a really fun feisty toddler. She lights up the room (her name means vibrant light) and she keeps me guessing on what lies ahead for us when she’s a teenager. Yikes.

My oldest has developed too. She’s always been my serious and sensitive one but I’ve realized she’s like her daddy in her ability to solve puzzles and find science connections. She’s also become highly emotional dealing with her big feelings and it’s kept me up at night thinking how to navigate her growing heart. I fear she has both her dad & mom’s tender heart and with that will bring much responsibility and heartache.

I’ve grieved, sorted, and processed a lot this year. We lost a dear friend, Nate, and continue to grieve my best friend’s loss of a son, Ben. I’ve had a chance to walk alongside the grief journey of many and in turn have verbalized my own. I got a tattoo with my amazing sis to symbolize it all. It says HOPE. What does hers say you ask? Ad Augusta…”to high places.”

I’ve read more and listened more.

I drank a good bit of wine and found that some cuss words just have to be used in the right context (like group texts with my best friends). I’m grateful for my tribe.

I finished a forever dream of getting certified as foster care parents and I look forward to the way my life will change due to this in my 32 years.

At the start of 31 I didn’t think I had anything to say. I was finding it hard to put language to some of the things in my soul and I lacked confidence to know my voice had meaning but at the end of 31 I realized I do have something to say after all.

And so I’m going to write at 32. And I’m going to share my stories and the stories of others I hear along the way.

I’m not going to let fear enter when I let people read them and I’m going to try to keep blog post short because ain’t nobody got time for that.

Join me, won’t you?


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