My birthday is rapidly approaching. Next Thursday - a week from today to be exact. Normally, I love celebrating my birthday, but this year is different. This year I leave my twenties and turn thirty. Yikes! Thirty sounds so old. Really, it's not, but at the same time - it is!
I loved my twenties. So many great and wonderful things happened. I met Jason at twenty, got engaged at twenty-two and married at twenty-three. We bought our first house shortly after I turned twenty-five and we welcomed Dillon into the world when I was twenty-eight. I'm not saying that everything in my twenties was all rosy and peachy-keen, there were quite a few low points, but overall, it was great.
Now I sit here, with thirty knocking on my door and I wonder what God has in store for me over the next decade. And, truth be told, I welcome it. But I feel this sadness of having to move on - like now' I suddenly have to grow up - like I can no longer be the way that I am (which at times I feel like I'm sixteen and I like to be immature). I feel like there was more that I wanted to accomplish in my twenties that I will now have to do in my thirties.
I've always heard that age is just a number and I'm sure that next Friday I will believe that. I also bet that turning thirty will be no different than turning twenty-nine or twenty-five or even twenty. But still, I will be slowly counting down the days until the "big day."