on turning 25 and on growing older

It’s funny how in a day you become officially one year older, when in fact, all throughout the year you age. Yesterday I was just 24. Today (well, in two hours, officially) I am 25. And it’s a great number to be. A quarter of a century old. At the point in life when you can make life-changing decisions. And you finally get the guts to do it. When you can dream, and dreaming is not just some far-off goal like a fairytale where everything ends happily ever after. Things become reachable, attainable. All things are possible. And I’m just 25. God-willing, I have another 50 years to go (statistically speaking, anyway). That’s twice as many years as I have already lived. Twice as many things to do, twice as many places to see, twice as many people to meet, and twice as many opportunities to touch lives and make a difference. What a promising thought!

For the first time since I was a kid (a greedy kid wanting birthday presents, at that) I am looking forward to my birthday. Looking forward to getting older, to adding a year to my life, and knowing that I am also adding life to my years. It feels great to have come this far, and it feels even greater to know that I can go further. I know that God has wonderful things planned for me, and I’m just waiting to discover what they are.

I can’t wait until my next birthday.