hello, adulthood

Since I began this blog--little more than a year has passed.
My last official post was made nearly 6 months ago.
Strange how much has happened in those six months.
Stranger still, how much has happened within that year.

For some reason,
as I stare at this blank screen--beautiful in it openness.
And as I stare at this jumble of letters--providing the simplest of tools with which to share,
I am at a loss.
I have the opportunity to fill this canvas with the most beautiful of gifts--words.
But I just can't seem to find them.

I have wondered around this Earth for 20 years.
I have found those things that interest me;
those things that irk me;
those things that pass away and those that last.

I have experienced fear, abandon, hope, joy, despair, hate, and love.
I have experienced life and death;
the highs and the lows.
I have been lost and I have been found.

And you know what's really intimidating?
I have yet to even scrape the surface of this thing called life.

The future is fast approaching--
and before now, this prospect would have frightened me.
The change, the possibility would have been too much.

And yet...
And yet.

There are things, situations, people--worth the risk, worth being willing.
Worth self becoming less and we becoming more.
Oh, the mistakes and broken attempts.
Oh, the worldly and selfish takings.

Apologies and forgiveness must be made and given freely with a head shake and a shrug.
I would like the excuse of youth--but find that years matter little.
For one year can become hundreds, and days can become months.
For one hour in the right place--can gain experience ten fold its intent.

Because in the span of a year, a plan can twist and flip.
In the time it takes to die, a new life can begin.
In the short days and weeks and months that we go about blindly following our own small minded plans,
a little girl can become an adult.
And she can learn to care more for others than herself.
She can learn that it's okay to become last.
She can learn what it means to give--and in doing so, to love.

A naive innocent can be exposed to the harshness of an ugly world,
and sill remember to find the beauty.
And one who knows the 'old, old story' can still hunger to hear it as do the rest.

A little girl that has fought adulthood in favor of the security of childhood for nearly her entire life can learn to hope, instead of fear, for everything that a future can hold.
And can face tomorrow head on, knowing full well that risks lie at every turn and bend.

I used to wonder when adulthood hit.
When you had that open eyed epiphany.
Did it just happen when you woke up one day?
You suddenlydevelop a taste for coffee, the ability to cook, a desire to work, needles suddenly seem like no big deal, things that go bump in the night are laughable at best, and you don't call your mom when chaos hits.

And then I realized--I'm never going to like coffee, the only thing I can make is eggs, work isn't supposed to be a breeze, needles will always suck, the dark is always creepy, and my mother still knows best.
I will always be clumsy, forever spill things all over me, keep laughing too loudly, and continue to find excitement in the smallest of things.
And that's okay.

A lot can happen.
A lot has happened.
A lot will happen.

And I'm ready--
But more importantly,
I'm hopeful.

In Christ Alone.