Measuring

Tomorrow I wake up to a new decade.

Most birthdays cause you to separate your life into years. The year I graduated high school, the year I went to college, the year I'll get married, and so on and so forth. But this time, this 2012, I can't get decade off my mind.

In a week I'm ducking back into school with a long-term goal that I expect to take up most of this next ten years. Perhaps this is what is making tomorrow feel so big. Or maybe 2 is just better than 1.

I feel as if I'm standing on a wide cliff, overlooking the largest expanse, wind whipping my hair back, with noise around and the quiet of God within. I couldn't tell you exactly what sits on that expanse, or which place I'll be one year...ten years from now.

The Lord has massaged my heart into this dreaming. Gently, bit by bit, he's drawn me a little farther, and a little farther, like a sheep learning a new path. Six months ago, ten years sounded like my whole life. Today, I see Jesus in a carpenter shop, spending his "twenties" in a small town with rough hands.

I imagine Him abiding. Working hard. Having the hope. Filled with joy, knowing that His Father works all things together for the good of the one He has called to His purpose.

Vingt. Viente. Venti. Twenty.

Good morning, Twenties. May you be filled with the zeal of the Lord, the knowledge of His will, the love of God, and the patience of Christ.