Thirty Two

Thirty-two feels different. Not in the “new year, new me” way. More like the kind of different you notice when the air changes overnight and you realize you have been holding your breath without knowing it. Today is my birthday, and this is the first time I am celebrating it with God in my life.

That sentence still feels brand new when I write it. I have celebrated birthdays before, of course, but this is the first one that feels anchored. Not because everything in my life is magically sorted out, but because I finally know where to put the weight of it. I finally know where to bring the parts of me that get tired, the parts that overthink, the parts that carry a quiet fear that I am always behind.

This year, I am in a better place emotionally and mentally. I can feel it in the way I come back to myself faster. I can feel it in the way my mind is calmer, even when life is loud. I can feel it in the way I am learning to pause instead of spiral. “You will keep in perfect peace those whose minds are steadfast, because they trust in you” (Isaiah 26:3). I used to read verses like that and think peace was something you earned by doing everything right. Now I am learning that peace is something God gives while you are still learning to trust Him.

And still, if I am honest, there is a part of me that does not feel aligned with myself yet.

Not in a shame-filled way. More in a wake up and tell the truth kind of way. Like I have been living slightly out of rhythm with the woman I know I am becoming. I have felt it in my habits, in my routines, in the way I sometimes reach for comfort instead of consistency. I have felt it in the tension between what I say I want and what I am actually choosing on an average Tuesday.

The difference is that I am not numb to it anymore. I am not excusing it. I am not pretending it is fine.

I am motivated to do better. Not because I hate who I have been, but because I can finally see who God is calling me to be. I am motivated in a way that feels clean, not punishing. In a way that feels like stewardship, not self-criticism. “Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind” (Romans 12:2). That verse feels like a mirror and an invitation. It tells the truth about how easy it is to drift. And it also promises that change is possible when your mind is being renewed, day by day, decision by decision.

Thirty-two feels like the year I stop romanticizing the version of me that never struggles and start showing up as the version of me who is willing to grow.

I want alignment. I want discipline. I want a life that reflects what I say I believe. I want to be someone who follows through. Someone who is gentle with herself and also honest. Someone who does not keep making the same excuses for the same cycles. Someone who can look at her own life and recognize the fruit. “By their fruit you will recognize them” (Matthew 7:16). I read that and I do not feel condemned. I feel clarified. I want my fruit to be peace, patience, consistency, softness, wisdom. I want my home, my mind, my choices, my relationships, my work, my time, my money, my health to reflect a life that is being shaped by God, not tossed around by every feeling or fear.

I keep thinking about this verse: “He who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion” (Philippians 1:6). Because that is what this season feels like. A good work being started. Not finished, not perfected, but started in a way that feels real. A way that makes me want to participate instead of procrastinate.

And I am learning that motivation does not always feel like fireworks. Sometimes it feels like quiet conviction. Sometimes it feels like getting up and trying again. Sometimes it looks like small obedience. Sometimes it looks like going to God before I go to my phone. Sometimes it looks like cleaning up what I keep avoiding. Sometimes it looks like being brave enough to admit, this is not aligned, and I want to change.

“Search me, God, and know my heart… see if there is any offensive way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting” (Psalm 139:23–24). I am learning to pray that without fear. Because God does not expose us to shame us. He reveals what needs healing so He can heal it. He shines light so we can finally stop living in the dark corners of ourselves.

So today, on my thirty-second birthday, I am not making a list of everything I need to fix to deserve a better life. I am making a decision to walk with God into a better one. I am asking Him for wisdom, for strength, for self-control, for clarity, for endurance. “If any of you lacks wisdom, you should ask God, who gives generously to all without finding fault” (James 1:5). That line, without finding fault, feels like comfort to my whole nervous system. God is not standing over me with disappointment. He is inviting me into growth with grace.

I do not know everything this year will hold, but I know Who holds me. And for the first time, that does not make me passive. It makes me brave. It makes me want to live like I believe He is good. It makes me want to build a life that is honest and intentional and rooted.

Thirty-two feels like a beginning. A quiet one. A holy one. The kind of beginning that does not need to be loud to be real.