Eighteen

Listening to the wind howl and beat at the windows is enough to send shivers down my spine. My frozen fingers do the bidding of my mind to type the words and letters, but I can barely feel the tips of them. The steamy drink on the table remains the sole comforter in this stormy weather. The silence of the evening is accompanied by the familiar whir of the monitor and the occasional keys clacking and clicking away. Nights like this I wished we had a fireplace...

The temperature has been steadily dropping and the first snow has already fallen. We don't need Ned Stark to tell us to know that winter is coming. I am stoked for everything about this season--the packed church dinners, bustle of holiday shopping, the beginning of Christmas program preparations, pointy wreaths, hopelessly tangled strings of lights, glorious reunions, unfortunate turkeys, organized chaos inside stuffy kitchens, hot Starbucks lattes, priceless family dinner conversations, and a house full of laughter. 

But all that can wait. 

Tonight is a good night to be absorbed in heart and mind, to drink in the crystal silence, and to run off on never-ending rabbit trails and tangents. Tonight is a good night to push the pause button and unwind. tonight is a good night to reminisce.

I've always been that kid who never cared too much about age. I don't squeal with glee about growing up too fast, but I certainly don't want to stay young forever. (Frankly, I don't understand the people who want to stay young forever, but that's for another day.)

Sometimes when people ask how old I am, I struggle to remember, so I tell them whichever number comes to my head first. on some days, I get it right. On other days, I could still be sixteen. Age is, well, just a number and numbers? They don't really define people. at least, not in my book.

This week, I turn eighteen but in all honesty, I feel like I've been eighteen for ages. It lingers with familiarity and makes me believe for a minute that perhaps eighteen won't be too different from seventeen. The comforting fact is I know I couldn't be more wrong.

Birthdays in the household have always been a simple affair. Money isn't exactly the issue behind it, but I guess my brother and I were raised not to have a want-all-have-all mentality and birthdays were no exception. The cake and gifts were a given, but it was nothing flashy. I remember receiving a long pair of brown socks with tiny terriers printed on the sides for my eleventh birthday. Granted they weren't fancy and I don't wear them anymore, but I still have them in my sock drawer and for all it's worth, I still remember it.

This year I don't care too much for gizmos, gadgets, whose-its, and whatnots.. there are some things I wish for, but I suppose they'd label me eccentric or out the box. Regardless, here are but a few:

I wish to live life each day looking through the spectacles of a new being...

. ...to have the grace and serenity to accept the things I cannot change...

...to treasure those I love and every moment with them even more dearly...

...to be unafraid of dreaming big, and living even bolder...

...to pursue, love, and serve Him more with every fiber of my being and with each passing day...

...and last, but not least, to walk through the doors that He has opened for me with confidence, despite that I have never been so terrified or thrilled in my life.

Eighteen, this one's to you:

"Whether you turn to the right or to the left, your ears will hear a voice behind you, saying, "This is the way; walk in it."" Isaiah 30:21