These past thirty years are a full and beautiful story. They are my memories, my nostalgia; my childhood in the Sierra Nevada foothills, my dancing days in college, my new life. Thirty years seems like just the right amount of time. Just the right amount to become an adult.
I feel the freedom of adulthood now. Not the rebellious madness that followed my 18th birthday, but real, solid, heartful adulthood. If I am being honest, I have been waiting for this birthday for a long time.
At thirty, I feel like my life is finally ahead of me. All the building up into being a whole person has been completed. My foundation is solid and the temple is mounting. I am who I was always intended to be.
I had a vision of myself as a child. I was standing in the field on Nicholas Rd looking straight into my own adult eyes. Aligned. Finally aligned with the intention God had for me before I detoured east of Eden. God has journeyed me all the way back around to gather up the bits and pieces and lay them out—my own cobblestone path.
I have not seen perfection yet, but wholeness my friend, wholeness is mine.
The single greatest gift in these thirty years? My release from the lie that I was not enough.
One morning God spoke into my heart the words “It is finished” and I knew, just knew in my soul, that I was free. Confidence, self-assurance, the immutable truth that I am the intricate work of a masterful God. I am exactly who God needs me to be to do this work in this life.
That when God beholds me he says “she is good”. “Good” like every single thing God ever breathed life into. And finally, finally after so much self-loathing and doubt, I agree with Him. This is salvation my friend. This is the lover of my soul reaching out and pulling me in close.
This was thirty years in the making.