two dozen

Today is gold, or so it was always supposed to be. I always knew, just knew, that I wouldn't really reach it, that my body, or time itself, would run out and this day would never come. But if it did, oh, I had ideas of what it would be.

I would have a husband, children, and a place of my own. I would have a dog, and probably a mom-car. I wouldn't be living even in the same state as my parents, let alone the same city. I would have a purpose, a positive clear idea of what it meant to be me, fully and truly, a woman living purposefully and strongly in the presence of the LORD.

But look, things are much different than I always imagined. The number on paper seems far older than the number in my heart, and as I blink it into my eyes I think how is this even possible? Nothing I wanted has happened. There is no man, no children, no dog and no house and no minivan. There is little clarity, and there is even less purposefulness.

But see, try to grasp, what is. Things I didn't even dare to imagine have been. I have flown across the world and back, and I have fought my way through blacker places than I thought bearable. I have been shown grace upon grace, mercy upon mercy, gentleness, tenderness, love.

You ask too much, and yet, so little. These few long years, I think, have barely dipped the surface of the depths into which You wish to plunge me, yet I find myself gaspingly overwhelmed by what I've seen and known.

Nothing has been as I imagined. And yet, nothing has ever come as a surprise to You.

For You created my inmost being; You knit me together . . .
All the days ordained for me were written in Your book before one of them came to be.