Knowing Less, Understanding More

I just turned 36 years old. Today, actually. That rounds up to 40, but no one else should point out that detail to me because it would seem I’m a little sensitive to the math.

I am 36. Eight years ago, I was 28. I miss the age of 28 because I knew everything then. And when you know everything, you’re not afraid of anything. Words like “hard,” and “challenge” feel like an invitation to be awesome, which, of course, we all want to be.

Now I’m 36. I know so much less than I did when I was 28. It’s funny how that works. But even while I know less, I understand so much more.

I understand that hard things leave scars – not the cool ones you show off to your friends, but the ones that still hurt when you press on them, or when the wind blows, or even when you simply remember they’re there. I understand the expression “ride or die” not just as a hip way to describe your best friends, but as a means of identifying the precious few who will stand with you, in front of you, beside you, and behind you through ALL THE THINGS. I understand grace – not as a nice, theological concept – but as the only explanation for why marriage is possible and parenting is survivable and the Church still exists. I understand that showing up for people matters a whole lot more than having all, or any, of the answers.

I’m not ashamed of my scars – I earned every one of them and I know there will be more. I’m not sad about getting older – it turns out there really is wisdom that comes with age and experience.

And so, here’s to another year of knowing less and understanding more…together…because it’s better that way!

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