25

25.
Twenty five.
Two.  Five.

Wow.  I can't believe we're here already.  And of course by "we" I mean "me".

25.

25 has always been a BIG birthday in my mind growing up along with
10 (double digits baby),
16 (sweet  16),
18 (officially an adult),
20 (the twenties!!!),
and I didn't really want to think about it after that because in my mind it all went downhill after the big 2-5.

25.  Man.

25 has always been a very daunting birthday because I had always felt pressured by our culture to "have it all together" by this time.

I'm suppose to have "arrived" by now.

Not only that, but there were also self-imposed expectations to be so incredibly accomplished that I would stand out above the crowd.

25.

The expectations were so, that as I inched closer to 25, I would have mini panic attacks every time I evaluated my life.  Followed by much self-loathing, much condemnation, much guilt, and much despair.  Then by the grace of God,  a few years ago, a little something called "burnout" happened....

25.

I don't have it all together.
I don't have it all figured out.
I don't think I ever will.

And I'm so ok with that.

Life will always be a journey...until I die.
God will always be teaching me and refining me.
I'm excited to see what He'll do, and follow Him wherever He calls.

25.

By God's grace you have become a birthday of hope instead a birthday of despair.