grace upon grace

This past weekend I went on a road trip with my best friend from college.   She always finds such fun activities and places to explore, so from the start I knew it would be a blast.  This venture took us to Toronto Canada for the Toronto Urban Roots Festival. A glorious eight hour road trip full of snacks, tunes, stories, plans, laughs and bare feet.  Steph is an incredible travel buddy.  If you ever need one...well, I'm sorry, she's mine!
Spontaneous decisions seem to turn out much better than expected with Steph. It feels as though we've been gone for two weeks, but it was really only about four days.
Four days of amazing performances by Wilco, Of Monsters and Men, The Avett Brothers, Cake, Passenger and so many more - but NOT Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros. No. Just. No.
There was a little Harry Potter thrown in there too. So how could it not be amazing?

On Sunday, I turned 25.  A birthday that at one point was a thrill of a thought quickly became daunting.  Just a few weeks ago I was laid off.  Blind sided and thrown into the whirlpool of job hunting yet again.
So on my birthday I ventured into Kensington square and found a quaint coffee shop called "Wanda's Pie in the Sky."  I needed to take some time and remember everything that's happened in my 24th year.  Remember the joys, pains, frustrations, heart break, confusion, and restarts.
For the first time, I went back and reread everything I had written about the last year.  From moving half way across the world (and back), to falling in love, to starting a new job, to losing love, to getting laid off, and not knowing who I was becoming or what I wanted to do.
I could feel it all over again.
Wave over wave.
But in between these stories I had written down in my journal, I kept noticing the same voice:

{so let go my soul, and trust in Him}

Did my past self know that my future self would need to be reminded constantly to let go? to trust?

Apparently.

It's a little daunting to be 25, and single, and unemployed, but I'm not as afraid as maybe I should be. 

No.  I don't think I should be.  

There's no reason to fear.

If I could rank my years from best to worst, my 24th would be only slightly above being the 13 year old, red-faced, chubby, frizzy-haired, with glasses and braces, getting my finger slammed in the car door after field hockey practice that I probably faked an injury during. (If you're curious, I'd say the best years have been 22, 16 and 8. Mostly because of all the coloring dates I had).

Anyways.  Lots of reflecting.  Lots of tears remembering the hurt. Lots of waiting. Lots of hope.

Looking back is hard to do. 

But I did.  I wrapped my 24th year up and started the 25th with a bang. :)

Thanks, Edna.

PS.  Thank you to all of those anchors in my life that walked with me, even from a distance, through all of this. I am forever thankful.