It has come and I still have no idea.
I thought by now I’d be finally grown up, but I find my “little self” is still very much here.
I still panic at needles, big dogs and stepping on the down escalator. I still spend money on foolish things. I still think my pajamas are the best clothes I own. I still need my dad to change the oil in the car.
And still, the older I get the more I see how far I have to go.
What does twenty feel like? Just a greater realization of how needy I am. A growing understanding of how dependent I am on God. A greater appreciation for the relationship that supports my existence.
I just heard a missionary speak of the need to “evangelize believers” — the idea that the gospel needs to be preached not only to unbelievers but is vitally essential to those who claim to live their lives by Christ’s name.
How true this is. Every day of my twenty years has been marked by the gospel. It has been about ten years that I’ve acknowledged it. There are still days I fail to recognize it’s presence in my life.
Forgiveness, grace, love. Every single day.
And if I’m blessed to live another twenty years, it will be more of the same.
Because God never changes.
He will continue to show Himself strong in my weakness. Faithful in my emotional swings. Sovereign in my future. Patient in my slow understanding. Active in my sanctification.
I may not know who I exactly am, but I do know who God is. And that makes all the difference.
Without Him, I would be frightened to “press on” into the future…especially if it contains needles and big dogs.
Oh, but with Him?
It is good to be alive.
For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them. ~ Ephesians 2:10