I’ve heard that our lives have stages. Early twenties is a time designated to “find yourself.” Sometime around thirty-five to forty-five, be sure to have your mid life crises. And then when you make it over the hill, you have no where to go but down.
As summer leaves and tides shift, I too am embracing a new season of life. The season that high school never preps you for. The one that just sort of springs up like an early dawn that you’re expected to understand. The one that tells you you’re old enough to have babies when you still day dream about making forts with your friends. The one that predicts a future full of financial woes and the ever-relentless feeling of “am I doing enough?” The season that promises to burden you with trials, yet demands your patience to endure them.
And as I enter this season, whether I am challenged to find myself, or just to find myself in a (quarter life) crises; I have peace knowing that no matter how many hills I make it over, I will not go down without going back up another.