The Wondering Years

There are those milestone years that we all have. It isn’t necessarily 16, 21, or even 40 but there will be a year or two that will have a profound effect upon one’s outlook on life – more specifically their own life.

For me 27 was a turning point. Why? I really don’t know. But I felt exponentially older when I turned 27. 30 didn’t phase me. 40 didn’t really bother me either but 48, ahem my age now has been THE year in which I know I’m kissing youth goodbye and reluctantly embracing my non-youth years.

There’s no denying it now. I’m old. I’m old enough to know better, do better and be better. There just aren’t any excuses. And that stinks. I like excuses.

My mom passed away at age 60 so I don’t go through life thinking that I’ll live till 80 or beyond. I don’t take those golden years for granted.

A high school friend passed away unexpectedly this week and that was a very real reminder that if I’m going to do what I want to do with my life I had better get on with it.

Right now, I feel like I’m where I’m supposed to be, at least temporarily. No it isn’t my dream job and there’s other things I feel I’m more cut out for but I feel like God is telling me to stay put.

It’s like I’m standing on the curb at a crosswalk and God is telling me to stay on the curb. Maybe so I don’t get mowed down by the traffic or maybe so someone near me doesn’t get mowed down but one way or the other, I feel a hold on my forward progress.

But I also feel like I’m gearing up for a major change. I catch glimpses of it here and there but I’m not seeing the full picture yet.

Maybe this all sounds kooky but I’m one to go on gut instinct. If it doesn’t feel right, I don’t do it. If the time doesn’t feel right, I wait.

Something is telling me that this fall will bring a change. I’m saving as much as I can, paying off bills, and gearing up for what is to come. I hope it isn’t a bus as I step off the curb.

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