Heavy with the Joy of It

Tomorrow I turn thirty. It's not like I think that is old...because I know in 30 years I'll look back and laugh at that...and it's not that I think I'm wise, because honestly it seems the older I get the less I know. But sometimes, like tonight, on the eve of my thirtieth birthday I feel heavy with life, heavy with the speed of it, heavy with the weight of it, heavy with what I haven't done. But mostly, heavy with the joy of it.

I remember my sixth birthday when the large cardboard box in the garage moved and I tore into it to find the most perfect woolly lamb with a lavender collar who I named Heidi. What a birthday that was. My tenth birthday was the traveling birthday, a celebration in every relatives home from Montana to California...my brothers were jealous. My thirteenth birthday I asked for bed sheets, there was a Laura Ashley set I had had my eyes on. For my sixteenth birthday we camped in Glacier by Lake McDonald, and my girlfriend Kim and I went skinny dipping at midnight and ate Cheetos in our tent until our tongues went numb with whatever chemicals they put in those things. I spent my twenty-second birthday on my honeymoon, and my twenty-seventh throwing up from pregnancy. On my twenty-eight I ran a marathon and pushed my six month old twins across the finish line in the stroller. And tomorrow, I turn thirty.

The next thirty years are an untold story...they will be full of the joys and struggles, the blindsides and dreams, the discoveries and losses that define life. But these next thirty years, I hope to slow it down, or if I can't do that, at least name more of it. Acknowledge all of it's wonder, make sure I articulate it's gifts, live in the present and not push the future.

I will look my children in the eye. I will let my guard down. I will love reckless. I will breath deeply and notice it. I will never say never. I will learn. I will see things I've never seen. I will create. I will make beauty. I will tell those I love that I love them more often. I will be thankful. I will acknowledge God. I will love. I will love. I will love...

And in thirty years I'm sure I won't feel wise, and hopefully I won't feel old...but I'm sure that I'll feel heavy with life. Heavy with the speed of it, heavy with the weight of it, heavy with what I haven't done. But mostly, heavy with the joy of it.