In Bloom: Thoughts on Turning 31
Getting older is…weird.
The days of our youth seem to be the ones that are most celebrated as milestones brimming with purposeful promises. But it seems like the older we get (or I get), aging feels more daunting and uneventful than exhilarating. And today, on my 31st birthday, I felt a whole lot of the latter. Not because no one made me feel special–because many have–but I realized it’s because I haven’t given this day permission to be special.
So, in light of all the feels today, I wrote a little poem about them all.
Woke up this morning,
knowing a change had taken place,
feeling the sameness of yesterday,
(and the day before,
and the day before then).
My heart shrugged with indifference
toward today’s new mercies.
I’m 31.
“Put down the confetti,”
I’d tell you,
”Save that bubbly for a…special occasion.”
Today’s just another day,
the marking of another year
where sameness rolls over
into days
into weeks
into months
into years,
like unused vacation days
or anytime minutes.
And then there’ll be 40 then 50,
60, 70 and maybe so on.
But in the quiet of my clinging
to regular and mundane,
I heard heaven’s whisper:
”Just because your days feel ordinary
doesn’t mean you are.
Through it all,
you’re still in bloom.”
There’s a celestial calendar
and according to it,
today’s no ordinary day.
It’s marked with stardust + rainbows,
gilded gold with glitter.
It’s the day everything God had been dreaming of,
the day when His perfect precision
and meticulous intentions
sprouted with life upon the earth.
And even leading up to this glorious moment,
He patiently anticipated
the womb-laden seed of His breath
to flourish into that which His heart
first loved.
This,
this day.
This is a day,
the day
He made.
The day He made
me.
And I will have joy
and will allow joy to revisit me again + again
that I may be glad in it–
in the making,
in the mundane,
in the molding.
On this day then,
a precious sprout from Beloved’s soil
stretched it fragile limbs
wide with “Good morning” to the sun.
On this day now,
she has budded,
with iridescent petals.
Sure, there’s a few thorns + thistles
that need trimming.
But this flower’s roots run deep.
There’s nothing same ‘ol about her,
nothing worth being overlooked.
She’s a marvelous wonder,
and she’s still
in bloom.
