I’m an adult. Every day this becomes more apparent.
Somewhere between laying in the grass and digging worms at grandma’s
Sometime between barbies all afternoon and family basketball every evening.
Somehow I became the woman with the crockpot. The woman with the magic kisses, pink lotion and pudding skin.
And suddenly, I’m so very adult and I see my eyes wrinkle, or crinkle, or whatever.
And I couldn’t be more thrilled. My friends are turning or have turned 30 with a heavy heart and big sigh. I can not wait to turn 30!
20’s are hard. Major decision after major decision and I’ve just recently fully realized I have zero control.
Kids teach you that lesson fast.
And I’m down to one prayer repeated, “Lord overcome me”
Or, more accurately, “help me overcome myself and cling to You”
I’m the adult now, and I’m not sure when exactly that happened. But I’m okay with aging. Every year gets better (although 2015 was/is one for the books.)
Tide winds are gearing up again, I can feel it in my soul. And so I slow down to listen.
Reflecting over the crockpot.