Wednesday, November 21, 2012

When 37 Isn't Too Late - Day 21, But Who's Counting?

It's an odd season, of recognizing so clearly all that I have to be grateful for, and feeling that deep in my bones, all while knowing things aren't as they should be. I've been hiding a bit from Twitter and from blog reading as it is whispering to me that I am less than. And I want to stay in a place of grateful contemplation.

But this morning I read "When It's Like Baptism" over at Addie's place, and oh my heart. In those few minutes, huddled over my laptop, drinking coffee while the girls are cuddled on the couch watching their morning cartoon, I was in church. I left the following comment on her piece:

My thoughts have been rattling around in my head for weeks now, and none of it makes sense, and Chicago feels like such a desert place. And I told a friend that I don't understand how not one little bit of it seems to have worked out the way it was supposed to and I don't know what to do with it.

And then I read, "Maybe it takes some time away. A few months or a few years. Maybe you can’t understand why you keep getting stuck when you want to move forward. But then, after long enough, you look back and you can actually see. You see that God was there all along, even when you thought he wasn't  You can see that this story is about so much more than you." And I think those are the best sentences I have read in years. And I'll write them down in my journal, and probably quote them in some unimportant to the world, but important to me, post. I'll shed some tears and manage a feeble prayer. And hopefully in the not too distant future I'll look back and feel the same way.

I was feeling particularly discouraged, as if it had all passed me by, and I couldn't bring myself to write, so I did what any self-respecting procrastinator does, I went on Pinterest. But I think God laughed, for as I sat there, mindlessly looking over 127 ways to make a wreath, and 78 recipes for Turkey brine, I thought about how at 37 years old, there was no point. I wasted what might have once been a gift and now....

And then I saw it....

It’s never too late to go after your dreams.

Yup, I was right, that sound was God chuckling in the background.

So today, I will feed my babies, do some messy crafting, the kind with glue, and glitter and feathers and foam turkeys, prep some Thanksgiving dinner, and trust, even when I can't see, that the good days are ahead for all of us.


081 - Reading the right thing, at the right time
082 - Pinterest inspiration
083 - Remembering the world doesn't revolve around you
084 - Hearing your best friend's voice on the phone, all while knowing you've been a lousy friend, and she loves you anyway!
085 - New cookie sheets

086 - Little girl haircuts
087 - Days off of school
088 - Date nights with your husband
089 - Delicious cheese plates
090 - Chicken nuggets (cause sometimes, you just need them)


  1. Oh, Brenna, it pains me to think that you were made to feel "less than", although I completely understand. The virtual world can be like that sometimes. But then along comes a post like Addie's (in the virtual world, I might add)and suddenly you're weeping and feeling understood and known and alive again. Rejoicing with you that you can trust.

    Also, I was encouraged by a post in the LA Times about "late writers" and I felt myself coming alive again...

    Grace and peace to you, my friend

  2. i know that desert. i was reading shauna niequist's bittersweet last night, and she wrote about the middle, when you're stuck in the thick of it and can't see your way out and i started to sob. here, i thought i WAS on my way out, but deep called to deep and i knew i'm not there yet. and yet we trust. we praise. we wait. we love. and we remember it is never too late. love to you, lady.

  3. Thank you. This is encouraging to me. And Chicago does sometimes feel like that "desert place", though I wonder if that is more my state of mind than the city...I don't know.