Another Year

I remember my tenth birthday. I was at my church filling up shoe boxes for Operation Christmas Child. I was all happy because I was officially a preteen. Oh the excitement!
I remember when I was in 5th grade. I would look in the mirror and wonder what I would look like as a teenager. I pictured some magical transformation into a . . . Whatever it was I thought teenagers were supposed to look like. Older. Mature. Beautiful.
I remember when I was twelve and I thought sixteen would mean perfection. I would be old enough to not be seen as a kid but young enough to be one.
I remember when sixteen came and passed without any real excitement.
Yesterday, I woke up as a twenty year old. The teenagerdom that I looked forward to is over! But, the good thing is, I am so excited about twenty. I don’t miss sixteen and I don’t long for twenty-five. I’m just plain excited about twenty. I looked in the mirror a decade later, and this is what I saw. That’s a face of surprise and excitement and just happy to be.



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