Yup. This is me... in the flesh. In pink. (who knew?!?)
I turned 31 today.
This birthday was like no other birthday I've ever celebrated. No cake. No ice cream. No fuss. It was SUCH a normal day, complete with laundry, groceries and dishes. Today was extraordinary in its normality. I had a GREAT birthday. I delighted in the simple pleasures of my life today... a good workout... an extra long shower... washed hair and shaved legs... a well-stocked fridge... gas in my car... a midday nap... phone calls, emails and messages from a bunch of people I love (thank you)... sushi... a fun night with my family...
...AND beautifully wrapped gifts?!?!? (new running gear AND a pedicure... yippee!!)
God has been good to me. I've lived thirty-one rich years. I am totally, completely, thoroughly and abundantly blessed.
My family has retired for the night. I've still got lunches to pack and a kitchen to clean. Instead, I'm blogging.
And for the next 48 minutes (at least), I'll be celebrating.
I beat my alarm clock by nearly an hour this morning. I'm in a rhythm. It's become routine.
In the pitch black of my bedroom, I stumbled toward the bathroom sink to wash the sleep from my face. At some point, I expected to see my reflection as the woman behind the mirror came into focus; instead, my mother approached.
Within moments, we were face to face. I looked deep into her eyes, and eventually I realized they were my own.
I have aged.
Not in a bad way, just in reality.
I suppose I look past my reflection most of the time. I glaze over my face... yep, that's me, still 16 or 21 or 25... And then, I go on with my day.
This morning, I saw myself. Nearly 31.
This morning, I saw a womanstaring back at me. Her story is written in the lines on my face. Although I've known it in my head for years, this morning, my heart realized that the girl I once was will never be again. I am more like my mother than I am like my daughter.