the big two five

It's my birthday tomorrow. Twenty-five years. Last year on my birthday I listened to Switchfoot's song "Twenty Four" over and over again. I'd been waiting to do that for a long time so I had to make it count. If you know of a song for twenty-five, you just let me know, it would be a shame to miss it.

A lot has happened in a year. I've graduated from college, lived with my parents for 2 months (parents are patient), gotten a full time job, moved to Seattle, learned to budget, and learned to run meetings. I've evaluated, pushed, prodded, and agonized over my faith and who God is to me, who God is at all, really. I've put Adventism, alcohol, Sabbath, friendships, expectations, and priorities under the microscope, trying to figure out what I think. It turns out I think a lot of things, but nothing really solid to report--yet.

I'm figuring it out though, I think. It's actually been quite the year, this year of twenty-fourdom. Letting go of a community you love and trying to introduce yourself into a new one is tough stuff. But you know, it's working out okay. I'm flexing and molding and recognizing that this process of growing up and figuring things out is exactly that--a process. And when I write my introspective, over-sharing blog on my 26th birthday I'll probably have wrapped a few thoughts up tight, and unravelled a whole new set of things to digest. I'll be wiser, hopefully, solider, hopefully, and skinnier, hopefully.

So here's to you, 25 years. Way to mix my life with just enough total crap and inexplicable joy to make me excited about the future, and yet wise enough to know it will never turn out the way I think.