The Parish

Twenty-Seven

It sounds so old, doesn't it?

Well, maybe not to you, but it does to me and that's all that matters today (it is my birthday, after all).

Yesterday--my actual birthday-- was a day of revelations for me. Some of them were good and some were downers. Some were downright depressing, but others? They were made of the stuff that makes the world turn-- do you know what I mean?

So I thought I might share. In my ripe old age of twenty-seven, perhaps I have some wisdom to part upon the masses. 

Here you go:

1. Cook for people.

All the time, even if you are the worst at it. Learn and do it. There is nothing better than a meal shared by people you love or are learning to love and plus, you get to serve them. Break out the fancy china, ladies and gents. There is no better time than now. What are you celebrating? People, relationships, communities. Is that really worth it? Absolutely. I cannot begin to count how many times I have been absolutely blessed by the people who have graced our table this past year. So, so good.

2. Asking forgiveness, not permission is stupid.

For those of you who know me might balk at that one. But here's why:

Yes. Some rules are stupid.

Let's just get that out of the way. They are. It happens. Some people are just not as smart as you and did not think of it from your perspective. Therefore their rules are dumb.

But what if they did? What if they have thought it all through, and may even have more insight than you into the situation?

Asking forgiveness, not permission is not humility. Honestly. If my goal is to serve people, and put them before myself, breaking their rules is a poor way to start. Show people you respect them by following their rules. No, this does not mean you walk around with your head down and your tail between your legs. It means you respect them enough to ask. That's all-- it's all about loving other people and pointing them to Christ because of that.

3. Everyone should know all the words to at least one musical.

You might laugh at this one, but I think it is a true sign of culture if you can recognize a reference to the Little Mermaid.

(I didn't say what musical...)

4. Love something and do it

The world is a better place when you are channeling your talents, passion, and ability towards creating something great. So go do it.

5. The Oxford comma is, and forever will be, a sign of a proper education.

6. Always say nice things about your parents.

Being a grown-up is hard. Being a grown-up with kids has got to be even harder. If they raised you and you still have ten fingers, ten toes, and a decently positive sense of self, you're a lucky kid. Show your love for them by talking kindly of and uplifting them to others.

7. Perfection is dangerous.

This is a long, hard lesson that I'm learning right now, and not always in pretty ways. Bitterness, snide comments, sarcasm and being a jerk don't help point others to Him. But I'm learning. Here's to reminding myself that losing is the new winning and that Jesus died so I don't have to.

8. People who love you make life so, so worth it.

They push you along, jump in your way on destructive paths, help stop destructive thoughts. God uses them to give you messages. Or nifty gifts. Or just hugs. Man, I love hugs.

The thing is, community is beautiful, scary and a headache at times-- have they ever stayed on you about something? How dare they, right?

I am surrounded with community and my everything is better because of it.

You know who you are. Thank you. Thank you.

Thank you.

Guys, sometimes I forget how blessed I am.

Last year, I hoped for no broken bones, a slower year, some good laughs and great times.

And I was blown away.

Thank you twenty-six for being hard. Thank you for pushing me to be better, for showing me that growth hurts in the same way as a good run and is just as good for you. Thank you for a husband who despite my spiteful hatred loves me from the places He has ingrained in him somewhere behind those bright blue eyes I get to see everyday. Thank you for the lessons, the teams, the ridiculous laughter, soccer-ball-filled halls, God moments, beaches, basketball, sidewalk chalk, and pasta. Thank you.

So twenty seven.

Here we go.

This year, I would like to get out of this country.

I would like to finish school intact.

I would like to run, love, paint, and write more-- and not necessarily in that order.

I want to speak kind words and remember that people are people.

I don't want to take the easy road. Because You didn't, and You are what I want.

I want to sit here in a year and look back on a fruitful year that brought people into His light.

A few more musicals, hikes, pictures and laughs. 

Twenty-seven, you've got a lot to live up to.

I'm looking forward to it.