just 18 years old

It was on Easter morning in 1991 that I became a Christian... from my own heart, 100% my own decision, of my own free will. I'd been "saved," taken to church and Bible studies, and taught the basics of my faith since young childhood, but I had not owned it or taken steps to make it something to call mine. But that morning, I did. I knelt at my old church on the corner of 11th and Jefferson in Waco and I asked God to take my life and use it and give me His gift of life and love and peace and forgiveness through Jesus Christ. And to be honest, I've never looked back. Not that I had before then; I just never gave it much thought before then.

That year, I would turn 20 in December. I definitely was maxed out on youthful enthusiasm and conquer-the-world zeal. And it was awesome! I wouldn't trade the many hours I gave in service to my church, nor would I trade the many lessons learned or memories captured.

But if you count your life in years as a Christian -- or any other way you identify yourself -- then you might say I'm just about to turn 18. And boy do I feel it!

Gone is the carefree outlook on life... I am often full of questions and not answers. Before me sits a path whose end I know not, and whose direction I am only slightly less confused about. All around me are people who seem to have their crap together... at least more than I do! Where I once felt certain and confident, I am unsure and usually second or third guessing my decisions.

On a brighter note, I still maintain a bit of "in your face." You know, the 18-year-old who is about to graduate from high school and doesn't have it all figured out and basically tells you to take a hike when you try to tell him anything about "growing up." What's more, I believe the best is yet to come. STILL. The ridiculousness of that statement is almost painful to admit. Who am I kidding? But then I realize that, oh yea, I'm like an 18-year-old on my journey as a Christian. This too shall pass... but hopefully not too soon.

I do well to be mom and wife and keep things running around here. I am responsible and prompt and orderly most of the time. But there's still a little rebel inside of me that I can't seem to shake. Example: the more people suggest I "decorate," the LESS I want to. And while I pride myself on being minimalistic, sometimes I want to smack people with a taupe-shaded two by four when they try to show "subtle" concern about my plain walls or lack of random CRAP filling the spaces and places in my house. ARGH! Sorry.

In the end, I think I'll be what I'm supposed to be. This is all in stark contrast to my real-life year of turning 18. I had it ALL figured out: college, career, spouse, kids. Truth be told, that stuff stuck! But it goes to show that you can have the basics and foundational things go as planned and still not have all the answers... not by a long shot. Then again, I guess that's life when you're 18.