Age

In a few weeks I'll officially be 30. I look a the number in print in front of me. Me. 30 years old.

Age isn't a huge deal for me, I'm not one to be concerned about numbers. The girls from work and I were discussing age one day during lunch and we all agreed we felt stuck in our late teens. Not stuck in a bad way, just stuck in a way that made us feel a little weird to have people think we're mature and stable enough to be raising kids. I feel 18 and I have an 8 year old and a 3 year old. I'm a mom. An adult woman. With a job, and bills, and schedules, and responsibilities. That is just plain crazy. Who in the world thought I was ready for all that?

I think one of the things I have a hard time wrapping my mind around is that if I'm 30... that means my parents are older too. To me, they should be in their 40's. That's where they got stuck. And my sister, she never hit her 30's (she has in reality), she's still in her early 20's.

Age. A number that represents the years you've physically lived. A number that represents the years you've laughed, loved and loathed. A number that never truly represents anything of significance... that, the significance of age, wisdom, hope, failure, victories, faith, that can only be found in a place where numbers are insignificant. My soul.