Tuesday, September 18, 2012
Chris and I sat at the table yesterday morning, spooning breakfast into our sleepy mouths. Our calendar sat in front of us, as we'd neglected to hang it again after attempting to plan our week the evening before. My eyes skimmed it lazily for a moment.
"Oh man!" I yelped. "I'm turning 25 next week!"
"OLD," Chris responded.
I laughed. "I know, right?" I took another bite of yogurt. "You know...I think if this year had gone differently, I think I would have sat down and cried."
Deep gratitude, never far away from my awareness these days, bubbled up from beneath the surface of my heart. This year, I will celebrate my 25th birthday by building a blanket fort with my husband. Not playing rowdy party games with my single friends, who are just as clueless as I am about how to get what we really want most.
I spent so many days with that lonesome, habitual ache, the one that kept me up at night, begging the Lord to tell me why I wasn't married yet, wasn't even dating. What I was doing wrong. The emptiness of those unanswered questions, or rather the memory of it, is still fresh.
After breakfast, I went to my laptop on the counter, and pulled up this song. As it played and I sang along, Chris' arm appeared around my waist. He softly kissed my temple, and I closed my eyes, two or three tears spilling over.
Once, I believed that God comforts us, teaches us, and brings our most precious, deeply-felt dreams to fruition.
But now, I know.
at 9:48 AM