I started this blog exactly three years ago with this post. Re-reading what I wrote at 25 makes me pity my much younger self. I wholeheartedly still agree with the things I wrote. But- of course I wrote those things. Of course I was thankful for my life and hopeful for the future. Of course I was excited for the ways that I thought God would continue to shape me in greater freedom as a person.
I had never experienced life-altering heartache.
Birthdays can be difficult for a multitude of reasons. Maybe there are unmet expectations. Maybe it augments loneliness.
For me, today was a reminder that where I feel most at home- most comfortable and most like myself- is in the memory of someone who is not here with me.
That’s a really cold embrace.
Now, I can express the same sentiments I wrote three years ago: that I can see the ways God is continuing to help me grow into deeper freedom. That he has brought loving people into my life that I am so thankful for. That he has been faithful to me and continues to teach me about life in a gentle and patient way. The feeling of these expressions, three years later, is much different than when I originally wrote them. But they remain. Twenty-five year old Sarah, you didn’t know you would age a lifetime by your 28th birthday.
Twenty-eight year old Sarah, somehow you still feel like a nine year old trying to awkwardly figure out the nuances of life.
Sean, I miss you and I’m thankful for the one month of my 27th year that you spent with me.