Tip-toeing to Twenty-two

It's the eve of my 22nd birthday and, although I have had possibly the longest week of my entire life and I am so tired I'm literally sick in the stomach, I can't quite bring myself to go to bed yet. I'll probably regret it - I have plans to be at Starbucks at 5:30 for an early morning Jesus-date - but I also don't want to waste the last few moments of tonight.

I'm not a huge age freak. I never had an "ideal" age growing up. I remember my older sister wanted to be 12, until she turned 12, then she wanted to be 15, then 18, and so on and so forth. My younger has always been a countdown person and the day after her birthday she was usually counting down to the next one.

Age is just a number to me. It's just the recordable passage of time from the moment I was born. I do not believe age has to have a direct bearing on maturity or wisdom, although it certainly can be impacting.

As I get older, I actually find myself somewhat relieved. Maybe that'll change in a couple years, but from the time I was in my teens, I repeatedly had people mention I didn't act my age. I hate those expectations - and feeling like I'm not sure how I'm supposed to be acting my age, but whatever it is I'm obviously failing, and I'm not such a huge fan of that!

When I was 16 it was the joke among my friends that I was actually about 30. Perhaps my "acting age" has decreased over the last couple years, while, of course, my biological age has increased. I feel like they're somewhere in the same decade now, at least! It's a relief to know that maybe, someday, I'll actually feel and be the same age... or... maybe not. I guess that's OK too.

Tonight I feel old, though. Old in a bone-weary, exhausted, life-is-so-short kind of way.

I just finished a unit on Julius Caesar with my night class and I was thinking on the way home about death. Tomorrow is my birthday, but I can't help thinking every year on January 29th about my deathday. When is it? Of course, I don't know, but I pass the pre-anniversary of it each year at some point. Somehow when I think about my deathday, I value life more. I value the sunrise I see on my way in to work; I value the conversations I get to have with my students; I value the moments of exhaustion and triumph and happiness and serving and tears and frustrations, because life is short. Life passes all too quickly, at least that's what my grandparents tell me over waffle dinners late at night, and since any day of the year could be my deathday, I want to know that I've savored each moment.

I told my convict students yesterday that I my motto is to "live love." When I die, whether that is tomorrow or 10 years from now or 47 years from now, I want people to stand up at my funeral and say, "Dani was someone that loved people. She loved me. I know she loved me because she did X,Y, and Z. She loved me because she loved Jesus and she knew Jesus loved her - she consciously chose to love all the people Jesus brought into her life because she believed that was why Jesus orchestrated their presence in her world. Dani lived out the definition of love with her life."

I feel like I'm a far cry from it most of the time. I feel like I fail to love like Jesus loves. I fail to love Jesus like he loves me, and I fail to love the people around me like he loves me. But I'm thankful he hasn't given up on transforming me yet!

So, as I tiptoe up to my room in a few minutes and close my eyes on my 21st year, my prayer is that I will tiptoe carefully on to 22, and continue to tiptoe carefully through it. I don't want to waste an opportunity to love someone because I'm stomping around making noise, consumed with myself. When I tiptoe, my senses are heightened toward my surroundings, and I'm deliciously hyper-aware of my impact on the world around me.

I want that to be how this next year unfolds. I want to be more focused on loving and serving and blessing the people in my life than I have been any year previously. I want to be more purposeful about where I step and how I proceed in my romance with Jesus - attentive to his every leading, intimately delightly with him as we whisper through life together, and ultimately, quieting myself, my thoughts, and my selfish desires to hear his still, small voice saying, "This is the way, walk in it."

Father, I think I might have had the most blessed 21 years of life that anyone has ever experienced. Thank you for each and every moment of every day of every week of every month of every year. Thank you for laying a 21 year foundation in my life demonstrating to me how good, sovereign, faithful, and loving you are. I'm excited about what will come next! Lord, I accept whatever path you lead me down in this year and whatever circumstances you choose to bring into my life to work out your sovereign will. I only ask that you would continue to walk with me as you always have, and that you would draw me closer to your heart and transform my heart in the process. I love you! Thank you for giving me life!