I am 31 today.
It’s been a rainy, dreary kind of day, the kind that is hard at work bringing forth new life. It’s kind of the way the past year has been, and how I expect this year to continue. Messy, occasionally ugly, and really inconvenient. But under the surface, I can feel seeds germinating, sprouts breaking through the skin and reaching for the surface. It’s going to be beautiful.
I’ve been thinking a lot about the verse in Joel where God promises to restore all the years that the locusts have eaten. It’s been a really comforting verse for me to cling to that this past year, because it means I haven’t entirely lost these years when I was drowning in my anxiety. It’s not over yet. All the hard and horrible things that have happened don’t get the last word. It’s not the end. There is such hope.
Today I re-read that chapter in Joel and was struck not so much by that verse but by the verses that follow. They are verses that promise abundance and joy, and an overflowing of the Spirit. Of prophecy and dreams, for men and women equally. All things I have been mulling over and longing for.
I look forward to the remainder of my thirties with expectant hope. This is a season of restoration for me. I am rediscovering who God made me, uniquely me, to be, after losing years of myself to my unrealized anxiety. For the first time in a decade, I’m excited to figure out what I’m called to do with my life and my voice. It is hard and unglamorous work, and some days it’s more than I can bear. Like today, honestly. But I say let each day come and bring what it may.
Because I am 31 today, and I’m coming back to life.