I turned 25 just recently.
Assuming I live to 100, I'm past the quarter of a century mark! Age is just a number and all that, and yet it's caused a fair amount of introspection over the last few weeks.
Have I achieved all that I set out to, by this age?
Am I the woman I always wanted to be? If not, am I becoming 'her'?
What do I want my life to look like in another 25 years? What do I want to be known for?
I wrote this in my new, red journal..."I want to be known as a woman who lives and speaks out the grace, the tenacious love and truth that has been shown to me. I want to call out oppression in all its forms - that as long as I am alive, I will be a voice for those who have none, who have no advocate.....someone who 'proclaims freedom for the prisoners, and recovery of sight for the blind, to release the oppressed and proclaim the year of the Lord's favour', just like Jesus did. He has called me to no less. To call out systemic and ingrained abuse, hatred, bigotry, and all that stands in opposition to his way of love and powerful grace."
My greatest fear is not becoming her, and slowly turning into a small version of this woman, a closed, fearful and insecure version of who I was meant to be.
There is so much more I wanted to post about. I had a whole blog post ready to go, but I feel it needs more thought. Too often I simply 'vent' and don't shape my writing; this one is about piling high the stones on the altar that testifies to love winning out in the end, about holding tight to moments that proclaim the triumph of good over evil.