Skip to main content

Enjoying Life After 23


I'd like to say that I finally found my writing materials that had been lost in the moving boxes, and that is why I am finally returning after my eight-and-a-half-month hiatus.  But in this age of technology and internet clouds, that can no longer be my excuse.  Food for thought in the examination of today's generation, but I digress.

When I first started my short run at this blog last year, it was because I had never dared to plan or dream past age 23, and therefore had the feeling that, in a way, my life was over.  At least, my life as I had always imagined it was over.  I had just found out that bearing children - if that was even an option anymore - was unlikely without fertility treatments.  The only dream/goal I had allowed myself after age 23 was suddenly ripped out from under me and dangled somewhere ahead in the dark mist of the future, taunting me with the possibility that, even then, it was only a mirage.

At the beginning of this blog, I had no idea just how much life I could experience in only one year.  A wise man once said at his 50th wedding anniversary that there was no life before marrying his beloved.  Much in the same way, I feel that true life began after my 24th birthday.  In this year alone, I have been homeless, bought a house, deepened family relationships, made new friends, lost several loved ones, discovered so much about who I am as a person, and most importantly, finally understood exactly what happened between me and Jesus on the Cross.

Last year, the title "Life After 23" summarized my search to find meaning in life after age 23.  Now, it refers to making sense of and sharing just how much life one can experience after all their dreams and goals have died.  Spoilers: it's a magnificent journey.

Last year, I had no idea what my life was to hold.  I had no more grandiose goals.  And I was not okay with this!  I liked control.  I liked a road map, a plan.  Life was not worth living if up ahead was a great unknown.


Now, I still have no idea what my life is to hold, but that's okay!  In fact, it's exciting and, in some ways, a relief that I no longer feel the overwhelming need to have control over my life.  I see the reality that my goals only matter if they are written by my Heavenly Father.  Currently, my only true goal is to know Him better, to worship Him, and to enjoy this life that He has given me.


Last night, I was telling my husband how much fun and satisfaction I had these past few weeks organizing our home and "making it pretty."  It has been weird to me to focus on the task at hand and take pleasure in it rather than be filled with almost suffocating pressure to accomplish great works for the Lord/the good of society.  I am realizing that God is much more pleased with the aroma of love I give Him by taking joy in the simple life He has given me.  I exist for His pleasure, and He takes pleasure in me just as I am.


To sum up the conversation, I said to him, "You know, I'm just really enjoying life right now."


My husband turned to me with a stunned and joyous expression and replied, "I have never heard you say that before!"


It occurred to me that I probably hadn't said it before, because this is the first time in my life that I truly feel that way!  Just a year ago, I was terrified of the empty void of time that stretched before me.  Today, it seems that my past is the veiled mist, that my present is full of vibrant color, and that my future is a blank slate filled with possibilities that will unfold in my loving Savior's time.  I am no longer looking for answers and meaning to this new stage of life.  I am simply enjoying life after 23!

Comments

  1. That's amazing Sarah! And I loved being part of this journey (though at a distance). I had a very similar experience on my 24th birthday, and I'm still struggling. Thank you for your encouragement through your own testimony!

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Reading with an Empty Womb: Becoming a Villager

It's not their fault - the book authors, your friends, your study leader.  I understand that.  But it doesn't make the pain ease up at all.  Anyone else who has struggled with infertility knows what I'm talking about.  You sit down to read your devotional or (God forbid!) have a group Bible study, open your book, and at the top of the page: CHILDREN .  It doesn't matter what the rest of the title says, because that's the only word you see, staring up at you like a big red light that, by turns, is mocking you and judging you. You think, "That's it, I'm out.  This whole lesson doesn't apply to me."  Or perhaps wonder what is so wrong with you that God doesn't want you to raise children.  You maybe start comparing yourself to other moms in your study group, and before long, little seeds of resentment start to germinate as you think, "Why does she get to use this parenting knowledge and I don't? I mean, I'm better than her at

A Lesson from Perry

There comes a time when each of us must say, "I can't do it alone."  Each of us, sooner or later.  We hold out our hands and say to someone, "Help me."  When that time comes, all we have left is our trust. ~ Perry Mason As you can tell from the quote above, I love Perry Mason.  I've been watching a lot of it recently.  Lying in bed tends to go by a lot faster trying to beat him to figuring out who the killer is. When I'm not watching Perry, I have a lot of time to think.  I have slowly been coming to terms with the fact that normal as I knew it - or wanted to know it - will never be.  This disease keeps progressing, and apparently fighting it on my own has contributed to that.  When that began to sink in, I realized that my very survival rests on my ability to ask for help. Perry got me thinking.  It's not just humbling to ask for help.  It's vulnerable.  Admitting you need help doesn't just hurt your pride; it threatens you