Before I Turn 30 – some thoughts

I came home to my son standing soaked in the garden. The sprinklers shooting into the air and falling in that back and forth rhythm. His smile was wide.

My husband was watering the sunflowers and soon my daugther, also soaked by garden sprinklers–our little water baby–would come to say hello. I’d hug my happy, sopping wet mess close to my chest. I had just returned from my 30 week appointment and the first celebratory fall drink of the season with my dear friend. We both enjoyed a Pumpkin Cold Brew.

And that’s the magic of September.

Summer soaked in the long evening light and little bits of autumn or spring or winter…depending on the day, or even the moment.

I could smell spring last week and feel it in my bones–just briefly–but there it was nonetheless.

And not that long ago, though it was August, I made soup and sat warm on the porch while rain fell and cold air swept round. This time of year (especially in September) is such a wild card for the weather, and while it’s easy to be frustrated by that, I’ve grown to love the wild card of it all.

These last stretches of the year and every sprinkler run shore us up for winter.

I turn 30 in January and these scenes of happy, soaked children and my husband watering the garden, these pockets of autumn breezes and acorn scavenging feel poignant and special.

Not because 30 is OLD and I’m feeling somber about time passing, but because it feels like such a gift to be in the September of my twenties expecting a third baby, rooted in this life, being old enough for traditional celebrations of my own, waltzing with every season, and immersed in daily rhythms.

To be in the last months of this decade–the September of my twenties–so awake in my life fills me with such a sense of celebration.

There has been grief and growing pains, long darkness and even depression, but I have tasted and seen that the Lord is good.

I know that when all those things rear ugly and angry again, the decade of my twenties will be a long and true picture of God’s faithfulness and the reality of my experiencing His Presence.

My twenties, with all its proof of God’s goodness, will uphold me when I am numb, when my emotions or fears overwhelm.

*the apron I received for my 29th birthday and before I was pregnant with our 3rd baby. A favorite portrait from my twenties.*

But today I’m at the slow turn of this decade. I’m in the September of my twenties, and my children are soaking wet and happy in the last vestiges of summer. The sunflowers are still blooming on their aging, wilting stalks. I’m laughing with my husband and sitting on the porch praying in quiet morning minutes.

In the fire and in the roses, the goodness of God is proven.

So in this glorious September of the garden and this decade, I’m soaking up everything in double measure, collecting every beautiful scene, walking into each wild card with open arms, and thanking God for my twenties, basking in the blessing of it all.