I turn 30 tomorrow.
As I’ve sensed its approach, I looked forward to turning 30 as a transition into adulthood. My 20s were a time of new beginnings: college, marriage, parenthood, ministry. I felt that my 30s would be a time of improvement and refining.
I had no idea what I would be dealing with on this day.
I didn’t plan on being pregnant.
I didn’t plan on mourning my grandma.
I did plan on having a big celebration.
My friends and family joke about my “birthday season.” Every year when the 1st of April rolls around I start anticipating my birthday. I fully take advantage of every restaurant that wants to give me a free dessert and I love to plan a party to celebrate with my loved ones. I delight in the idea that on that one day of the year so many people are thinking about me, if only for a second.
This year it all feels different. All I want to do for my birthday is have a night out with Josh. Presents, celebration, my usual “season” all seem unimportant this time.
Don’t get me wrong, next year I’ll probably be back to my normal obnoxious, birthday-loving self. But this year just seems like a reflective year.
Of course…I still got my free pizookie!