Sunday, May 2, 2010

v2, d54: Twenty-Eight

Twenty-eight oceans, twenty-eight skies, twenty-eight failures, twenty-eight tries....

No, I'm kidding.

Does anybody remember that period in history where everyone found the Switchfoot song Twenty-Four to be unbelievably relateable, and everybody posted it to their Xanga on their twenty-fourth birthday?

Not sayin' anything against it, but it happened. Was sort of an odd phenomenon. I probably would have done the same thing with Let That Be Enough on my twenty-second if I'd had a Xanaga on my twenty-second birthday.

Did I have a Xanga on my twenty-second birthday? Was I still on LiveJournal then? Holly???

Anyway, I found it interesting how things seemed to fit well within my naturally contemplated train of thought on this day marking the passing of another year of, well, me. Our Sunday school (er, I mean Bible study) lesson today dealt specifically with issues relating to a particular crisis that came to light within this last week in part of my family. A lot of it had to do with perspective and growing in wisdom and working through difficulties. And, because we're a young couples class, obviously we were relating it to marriages, and how hard you really have to work to make marriages stay healthy, and how life happens, and all that stuff. Then, today was Senior Citizen Appreciation Day in big church. (I know, isn't every Sunday SCAD in a southern baptist church? ;-) The message was great, and it was all about wisdom, and how wisdom isn't necessarily earned with age but with the willingness to learn regardless of one's age. Then, the pastor passed the mic around the congregation and asked if any of the seniors had anything they've learned through life that they'd want to share with the youth in the church. It was nice, and it left me some place to reflect on how much I've gleaned just from the past five years of my experience. So much I've learned from my marriage, from my son, from our struggles, from my victories, from the unique challenges of my place of employment, from world events, from everything. And I remember thinking similar thoughts in college, too, about how my worldview had shifted so drastically from when I was in high school. Then, of course, when we got into the car after church, Switchfoot's album Hello Hurricane was playing, and the lyrics "If it doesn't break your heart it isn't love/If it doesn't break your heart it's not enough/It's when you're breaking down with your insides comin' out/Is when you find out what your heart is made of/And you haven't lost me yet/No you haven't lost me yet/I'll sing until my heart caves in, but you haven't lost me yet" followed by the song "Red Eyes," which closes with a gorgeous reprise of the album's first track: "In this needle and haystack life/I've found miracles there in your eyes/It's no accident we're here tonight/We are once in a lifetime."

So, needless to say, I've been contemplating the very nature of life itself quite a bit today, for these and other reasons.

And it's good. The contemplation, I mean. And life, even though I currently don't feel well and I can't figure out why and I can't sleep and I can't figure out why, and I'm really wrestling with a couple things at work right now. But really, it is good, even though it frustrates me. See, as I look back, the things that really that really got to me in undergrad are gone. The world is both bigger and smaller. Life is simpler; life is more complicated. I don't view "success" the same way I did five years ago. Or four, for that matter. Or even three. I don't want the same thing I wanted. And it isn't that the person I was then was wrong or bad, but he was just a step toward getting me to be the one I am now. Who is hopefully just another step toward a wiser man with more understanding of, well, everything. Wisdom I'll be able to pass down to my son. And, hopefully, to others who read or watch or enjoy anything I write, should that ever really truly take off.

I wonder how I'll look back at this period in my life? I wonder if I'll re-read these blogs and realize how much the world has changed in such a short time. In five years, Robbie will almost be eight. He'll be halfway to driving. (Incidentally, every time we get in the car now, he tells me that when he's sixteen, he'll get to drive) Who knows, there may be more kids. Maybe not. I may not be in theatre any more. I may only barely be in contact with any of my friends from here. Whatever happens, I pray that I'll be wiser, and not just older.

In the meantime, I'll do everything I can to make the most out of 28. After all, we are once in a lifetime.