The roaring 20s

I turn 30 tomorrow. (Cue a sharp intake of breath.) I can be calm this year because I had my freak out session last year when I turned 29. Still, this birthday feels momentous in some way. 

Let’s summarize my situation: I am unemployed, I live on student loans, I was closer to getting married at 19 than I am now, I’ve still not figured out where home is and I don’t know what I want to be when I grow up (I thought I did, but then I got confused when I started grad school).  

In short, I shouldn’t be turning 30. It’s irresponsible of me. However, I do have this to say for myself: I may look like I graduated from high school last spring, but I’ve had time to run around the proverbial block a few times. Here are six important life lessons my “roaring twenties” taught me:

1. I am a late bloomer. I’ve needed time to figure out what I think about things. I’ve needed time to figure out what I want. I’ve needed time to fight what I know is inevitable. Basically, I’ve needed time to figure out that everything my mother has ever said is annoyingly true. 

2. Life will never turn out the way I expect it to. Duh, right? But as with most obvious lessons, it’s taken me many years to learn this. Detours can be anxiety inducing. They can also be incredibly life giving. I choose which attitude to adopt. Also, a thankful attitude is really really helpful when you don’t know what the hell is going on.

3. It’s okay to be particular. I apply this principle in growing measure to every aspect of my life: boys, friends, jobs, food, hobbies, purchases, you fill in the blank. And I’m happier and more satisfied because of it. My theory is that when you are particular, you are less prone to make wasteful mistakes. 

4. Relationships are incredibly important. Another duh. But when I say they are important, don’t assume I mean all relationships. It’s easy to indiscriminately invest time in people who are only going to drain you. The older I get, the better I get at differentiating between those who will improve my life and those who won’t. I won’t ignore people, but I will not partake in their drama. You may call it antipathy; I call it relational triage. 

5. Do not grow weary in doing good. This is harder than it sounds. I don’t always like the world I live in, and when I say this I’m not referring to the big world crises that keep journalists buzzed. I mean the subtle attitudes and habits of people - our disgusting degree of consumerism, our quest for happiness in all the wrong places, our conformity to political correctness, our indecently corrupt political and financial systems, our entitled attitudes. The good guy rarely wins. The bottom line steers pretty much everything. I don’t wish to sound cynical, but the romantic idealist in me is feeling slightly deprived of oxygen. Despite this, the truth remains the same: It is always right to do the right thing. Good does win at the end of the story, but we haven’t gotten to the end yet. 

6. The advantages of handing over the reins of my life to my Creator cannot be overstated. The longer I live, the less I understand. The less I understand, the more I have to trust. Trust is not easy, but it is incredibly freeing. Every life plan I’ve ever made has veered into a pit stop and resulted in a change in direction. I’ve had to eat my “nevers.” But what I’ve gotten instead is an inner peace, a grateful heart, and a certainty that the best of life is still ahead of me. I don’t have to know everything.