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For as much time as I spend thinking about the future, I've never before taken the time to speak to my to-be self. Thanks to futureme.org, that just changed. Through the site, you can opt to have a note-to-self sent at any date in the future. Chances are that by the time my letter rolls into my inbox, I'll have forgotten all about it. I'm hoping that it'll be a good reminder to the me-of-next-year of just who I was today, what I struggled with, what my fears were. I hope that when I read it, I will be glad for the ways that the year will have grown me. I hope that I will be proud of the life I am then living.

image from here

I'm twenty-seven years old today. 

Twenty-seven years young, rather.

Time has a funny way of running backwards. When I graduated college five years ago, I was so anxious, so certain that I needed to make decisions to solidify my future. Career, home, friends. I was setting precedents, I was settling. So, I thought. 

But, the older I get, (by grace alone) the wiser I become, the more I realize that I have more time to figure it out than I ever imagined. I'm in my fourth job, my fourth home. Over the last five years, my personal style has totally morphed. I've added entirely new columns to my resume. I'm a work in progress. And, that is a-okay.

I don't have to lose sleep at night about figuring out my days, my path, my progression. Life has this way of making one thing, one misfortune, turn into my next great passion or stepping stone.

Today, as I think back on the days I've been given, I'm grateful to a God who gives me sure footing in knowing Him. I'm grateful for family, for friends, for the church that always points me back to the Truth. 

I'm glad that my age doesn't dictate how settled I am supposed to be. I am who I am. My experiences have brought me here to be just who I am supposed to be on this June day. 

In My Words

For me, understanding has always been in writing. I only truly process when I hear or read, ruminate, and then write. God's Word is no different. A friend of mine recently challenged me to take some of the Psalms, and put them into my own language (whoah, watch out Eugene!) This, she said, was a way to engage my heart in reading Scripture. So, I gave it a go. And, what do you know? The Lord is meeting me in it. 

The below is my take on Psalm 77. It's His words, with my pen—His truth, with a bit more of my understanding. I pray that God would use whatever means possible to get to my heart with His Never Stopping, Never Giving Up, Unbreaking, Always and Forever Love. I pray that for you, too. Because we need to hear it.

I shouted God's name. 
I yelled so loud so that He couldn't miss my voice.
When I was in trouble, I started toward God.
At night, I'd open my palms to Him,
but He didn't give me what I asked for.


I didn't stop. I remembered Him, and cried out to Him so much that it hurt.
I thought on Him, and became tired.
But He kept sleep from taking over.
I was way too upset to even form words.
I thought about the good old days.
I remembered those nights, and let my heart think before it asked:


"Is God always going to turn me away?
Will he ever treat me with kindness again?
Has that Never ending, Upstopping Love run out?
Has he gone back on His word to me?
Has he forgotten the meaning of grace?
In his anger over my sin, has he overlooked mercy?"


Then, I thought, I'll make this case:
I'll just remember the years when the Lord was so good to me; 
I'll remember his faithfulness, his miracles, and powerful displays.


The things you do, God, and are so OTHER.
Who is like you?
You do things that no one else can do.
You're just bigger.
You were the one that made sense out of Jacob and Joseph's story.


The water acknowledged you, though it stirred.
A storm brewed and raged, 
but it was all by your power, your hand.


It was marked-out path that took your children through the waters,
though no one acknowledged you as line leader.


You never stopped taking your people by the hand—Moses and Aaron, 
it was YOU who led them.