I turned, um, thirty at the beginning of this year.
I'm ok with it now.
But I've been musing on it. It's a strange age. I'm in a juxtaposition of feeling a bizarre mixture of too old for some things, and not mature enough for others.
I don't feel 30. I still feel 19.
I'm the worship co-ordinator at our church. I'm a mother of six children, and a partner/wife of 13 years. My husband and I own three cars. We pay rent. We have bills. Responsibility.
But I still think it's fun to have sleepovers with girlfriends. I still find farts funny. I'm very rarely serious. Adam and I watch stand up comedians on youtube on a regular basis. I still want to flit all over the globe.
I'm finding it difficult to comprehend that people are actually taking me seriously now. I don't feel that I'm any more mature, really, than I was a decade ago. And yet, I also look at some dreams and yearnings that I have and think that I'm too old for those now. I've wasted time.
Two weekends ago, we had prophets at our church.
Adam and I were blessed to be prophesied over. I bawled.
One of the parts I have been meditating over has been that we (Adam and I) are called to work with Youth. The Lord spoke to me in such a way that He made me realise in my heart, not just my head, that His timing is perfect.
My dreams and yearnings that are still so dear to me, are still God's heart for me. They will happen. I have not wasted years, I have not missed the jump. While I may think that I'm a bit old in years to work with my beloved teenagers, in my heart, I'm still right there with them... but with the added benefit life know-how.
I am not immature... I have a youthful heart.
I am not old... I have a wealth of experience.